


It Came Upon a Voidless Clear

by doodlegirll



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil is Human, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dorks in Love, Family, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!, M/M, Tattooed Cecil, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 89,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlegirll/pseuds/doodlegirll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos takes Cecil home to meet his family for Christmas. A tale of overcoming bias, fear, and closed-mindedness, love in all forms, bright green parkas, snowball fights, and gingerbread exploding. Nothing out of the ordinary for Christmastime, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. God Rest Ye Night Valeans

**Author's Note:**

> I have been bit by a rabid plot bunny! (No seriously. It bit and hung onto my elbow, I grabbed a notebook, and the story wrote itself right then and there. Literally half a notebook in four days. Not kidding. All of this is the final drafting.)
> 
> While I know that there are only a handful of fics out there about Cecil meeting Carlos's family, but I've noticed that none of them involve the issue of homophobia, which I found vaguely interesting. While I myself am 100 percent against homophobia, I feel that it is an important topic, especially within the dynamics of a family, that need to be addressed before understanding and acceptance can come into play. While the topic of homophobia will be, indeed, partially central to the plot of this story, it is mostly a fic about Cecil becoming integrated into Carlos's family, with some interesting mishaps along the way. ;) (And Christmas. Love the Christmas.)
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoy! This is only the second WTNV fic I've ever written, so I'm still getting the hang of the characterizations. :)
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic
> 
> Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffory Crannor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing.

 He hated that damn alarm clock, with its annoying wail and incessant clicking noises at ungodly hours of the morning when he’d much rather be enjoying the blessed sanctity of slumber. Hated it. Damned it to hell for all eternity.

Carlos groggily groped for the snooze button on the alarm clock next to the bed, refusing to open his eyes. He finally located the offending contraption and jammed his fist down onto it, silencing the wretched crooning that had interrupted his peaceful sleep. He groaned, forcing himself to turn his head to squint at the fuzzy, glowing green digits in the darkness of the room. He found his glasses where he had left them the night before next to the lamp, and slipped them onto his nose. The time on the clock swam into view.

6:22 AM.

Carlos groaned again and yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. While he knew that the clock was bound to go off again, louder this time, if he didn’t get out of bed, he couldn’t bring himself to budge just yet. Today was already a tangled mess of a day; couldn’t he at least get five extra minutes of sleep?

Something warm shifted beside him in the bed, and Carlos turned his head to find Cecil still sleeping, snoring quietly, curled into a ball against Carlos’s side. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to sleep through the earsplitting chorus of the alarm clock; Carlos was absolutely convinced that the man could sleep through a nuclear war and wake up the next morning as perky and cheerful as ever.

And, considering everything else he’d seen and experienced the last year and a half, Carlos wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t too far from the truth.

Careful not to disturb Cecil, Carlos slowly extracted himself from the warm sheets of the bed, setting his bare feet on the plush carpet of the floor. He tiptoed quietly to the door, slipping into the hallway.

As he made his way towards Cecil’s tiny apartment kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit him like a brick wall, wafting seductively from the coffeepot in the corner next to the microwave that had a tendency to steal bites of food, in particular lasagna. Carlos whispered his thanks to the Faceless Old Woman that (not so) secretly lived in Cecil’s quaint abode, and poured himself a cup into Cecil’s NVCR mug by the sink.

He stood with his back pressed against the counter as he slowly drank the coffee, allowing the warmth to slowly bring him back to life. As his brain waves began to return to normal functioning levels, the scientist sighed contentedly, enjoying the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the dimness of the kitchen. The Faceless Old Woman had brewed this batch just as Carlos liked it: black, with a slight oaky tone to it, with just a hint of a sweet aftertaste. Once he had downed the cup and went back for half another, he made sure that there was still enough left in the pot for Cecil and deposited the mug in the sink, making sure to run water into it so that his radio host could use it later.

Quietly, he padded his way back down the hall and into the bathroom, where he retrieved his gym shorts and old Caltech t-shirt from where Cecil had neatly folded them on top of the hamper, next to his clothes for the day. He pulled the shorts over his boxers and peeled off the shirt he had slept in, replacing it with the Caltech one. He quickly brushed his teeth and sloshed some of Cecil’s fruity mouthwash around for a few seconds before drowning down a Dixie cup of water from the tap. He carefully laid his glasses down on the counter and made his way back into the living room, where he found his socks and old tennis shoes where he had left them by the door. He pulled them on and laced them up before very quietly opening the door.

The chilled desert air struck his face as Carlos stepped outside of the apartment building into the early morning atmosphere. He loved Night Vale in the early morning, just before the sun came up. It was always so serene, a time when there were no tiny armies preparing for war beneath Lane 5 of the bowling alley, no sentient glow clouds raining dead animals and/or various sets of patio furniture, no doppelganger-inducing sandstorms. All was well.

Carlos jogged his way through town, enjoying the placid environment as it welcomed the first rays of sunlight like fingers reaching for the cookie jar at the edge of the cupboard. He raised his hand in greeting as he passed Old Woman Josie’s house, where she sat on her front porch in her pink fluffy bathrobe and house slippers, her white hair up in curlers as one of her angels handed her a steaming cup.

He ran past the Dog Park, shuddering as he gave it a sideward glance. As curious as he was to study the scientific properties of it, Carlos had never gotten around to doing so. Cecil refused to speak of it off-air, and quite frankly, Carlos found it slightly creepy. He suppressed the scientific tingling at the back of his brain and sped up just a bit, grateful to leave the looming obsidian walls of the Dog Park behind him.

He slowed to a walk as he finally neared Big Rico’s, fishing around in his pockets and producing the key to his lab. He walked up the empty driveway – his car was currently parked next to Cecil’s back at the apartment building – to the front door, where he inserted the key into the lock and walked inside.

It wasn’t that he needed to come by; Carlos had made sure the night before that everything was in order. He had left emergency numbers and a series of lists on the corkboard in the corner detailing his instructions for his teammates while he was gone for the next nine days, as well as the total inventory list of supplies that was set to be delivered by the end of the week.

He smirked lightly as he passed his hand over the smooth counter, and he felt tiny sparks of anticipation bloom in the pit of his stomach like butterflies hatching from their cocoons.

Nine days. After a year and a half in Night Vale, he was _finally_ getting a chance to get away and enjoy life in a world where science made sense 24/7, not only when it felt like it (which was never). As much as he had grown to love the odd little town he now called home, it would be nice to experience normalcy again.

And, not only that, but it would be nice to spend some quality time with Cecil.

He knew his brother and sister were excited to finally meet the eccentric radio host he had called his boyfriend for a little over six months now, and he knew that his parents were at least curious, his mother demanding photos and Skype calls that he never got around to sending. He had been anxiously counting down the hours to the day Cecil met his family since their first date, and finally, that day had arrived.

Carlos sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

It wasn’t that his parents were absolutely _against_ the fact that he was gay; in fact his mother was wonderfully supportive and accepting of the knowledge. His father, on the other hand, was less accepting, leaning more towards homophobic than the rest of his family, however much he and his son actually got along, but Carlos’s homosexuality was not something that was spoken of often.

Still, he supposed he could count his father’s agreement to allow him to bring Cecil along to spend Christmas with them as a sign that he was, at the very least, trying.

While Carlos had no doubt in his mind that his family would love his boyfriend as much as he did, even his father, he was, however, nervous about introducing Cecil to his grandmother. His Abuela was a loving, but stern lady, and very devout in her Catholic beliefs. While he had come out to his parents and siblings about his sexuality at sixteen, he had never quite gotten around to revealing the fact to Abuela; the timing had never seemed quite right. She never asked him about his personal relationships much whenever he called to talk to her, and even when she did, Carlos always wrote it off by saying he didn’t have time for romance, what with his leading the mission in Night Vale and all.

 _A scientist is self-reliant,_ he reminded himself dryly. _That’s the first thing a scientist is._

What truly made him uncomfortable, however, was the fact that he had not bridged the topic of this to Cecil. While Carlos was used to the ridicule and stares that usually came with being a gay man in a society that considered it an abnormal practice, he wasn’t sure Cecil had ever encountered anything like it before; Night Vale was many things, but prejudice against any and all forms of love was not one of them. He knew that he couldn’t allow Cecil to go into the world outside of Night Vale blindly, but he also couldn’t bring himself to approach the subject in a way that he knew he’d be able to adequately explain. The concept of homophobia didn’t exist in Night Vale, and he wondered if Cecil had ever even heard the term in the first place. Carlos had always kept his sexuality under wraps, never allowing himself to reveal more than he felt necessary, but his boyfriend had never been as reclusive, even going so far as to speak of his unending love for him on the radio whenever the opportunity arose.

Not only was explaining homophobia to Cecil downright uncomfortable, but the idea of having to explain that Carlos’s own father fell into a category of it made his skin crawl. He knew his father _tolerated_ it, but he also knew that he preferred not to acknowledge it, if at all possible, even going so far, over the phone when the Carlos first pitched the idea of Cecil coming to him, as to suggest that he and Cecil sleep in different rooms. Carlos’s mother had intervened then, citing that it was likely they had already, at the very least, shared a bed by now. His father held no contest to his mother’s word.

Carlos’s siblings had never had a single negative thing to say in regards to his sexual leanings, and for that, he would be forever grateful. In high school, shortly after coming out, Carlos had found himself the butt end of many a joke, in particular from those of more athletic status than himself, and had once almost been shoved into a locker had his older brother Andre not stepped in. He swallowed the memory like a bitter pill. He had walked away from the situation in tact and, more importantly, not shoved into a locker, but from then on he had also been seen as weak and unable to fight his own battles; it wasn’t until he began allowing some of the boys from the football team to copy his chemistry homework that the torment became stagnant.

He wasn’t about to allow homophobia to interfere with his vacation, or with his holiday. Even if he had to grit his teeth and bear it, he would get through this.

And, of course, he had Cecil. The thought made him smile.

Satisfied that everything was in order, and after a quick note telling his colleagues he wished them a Merry Christmas (and Kwanzaa, in Jason’s case), Carlos locked up and began his jog back towards Cecil’s apartment.

 

...oOo...

 

He had managed to sneak back into the apartment undetected, grateful that the Faceless Old Woman had opted to turn on the computer and troll around the internet reading _Sex & the City _fanfiction instead of turning up the stereo, which she liked to use to blast polka music if Cecil wasn’t looking.

Carlos ridded himself of his sweaty shirt and shorts almost immediately, stepping into the shower and turning it on full blast. The water (which held a slight green tint to it and smelled faintly of candle wax) was a blessed relief has he scrubbed away the thin layer of sweat and grime that had settled on his dark skin (perfect, Cecil called it) from his run. He washed his hair, running his hands through the thick curls, noting how long it had gotten, and chuckled, knowing his mother would likely comment on it later and suggest a haircut, much to Cecil’s chagrin. He had, with his boyfriend’s persistence, permitted it to grow out enough to the point of needing to sometimes pull it back when handling excessively corrosive chemicals in the lab, or whenever a Bunsen burner was in use so that the tendrils didn’t flop into his face, or catch on fire. He shuddered at the mere thought of the smell of burnt hair; it had taken his lab partner in college weeks to rid himself of the odor.

Finally clean, he climbed out of the shower, setting his feet on the moss bathmat and drying himself off as best as possible. He grabbed the clean pair of boxers from atop his folded clothes and slipped them on before he tugged his clean undershirt over his head. He located his glasses where he had left them and put them on before he attempted to survey himself in the foggy mirror.

As he made his way back into the bedroom to retrieve a clean pair of socks from his suitcase, he found Cecil sprawled across the bed on his stomach, still sleeping soundly, his face buried in a pillow. Carlos shook his head, smiling slightly. His boyfriend often tried to convince others that _Carlos_ was the bedhog, when in reality, Cecil was far from innocent.

Carlos dared a glance at the damnable alarm clock, which had taken to floating four inches above the night stand in his absence, Cecil’s purple rimmed glasses next to it, and noted that it was now 8:16.

It was now or never.

Carlos sat down on the edge of the bed, and reached out a hand to touch Cecil’s shoulder, shaking it gently.

“Cecil.” He said. “It’s time to wake up.”

Cecil groaned, loudly, as he was pulled from the warmth of unconsciousness, mumbling something that sounded like “day off, sleep in” into the down of the pillow.

Carlos shook his head. Cecil was never one to get out of bed willingly if he absolutely didn’t have to.

“Cecil,” Carlos shook his shoulder again. “Come on. It’s time.”

Cecil raised his head, but did not open his eyes. “Five more minutes.” He grumbled.

Carlos chuckled.

“Wish I could let you, _querido_.” He said regretfully. “But our flight leaves at noon, and it’s almost eight thirty.”

Cecil groaned again, and remained firmly cemented to the sheets of the bed. Carlos smirked and leaned across the bed, kissing Cecil’s white-blond hair and leaning in close to his ear.

“ _Lo siento, querido._ ” He whispered as he snaked his hand beneath Cecil’s torso, and prodded at the spot just above Cecil’s navel, which he knew to be the one spot where Cecil was ticklish. Cecil yelped and his body jerked away from Carlos, and he fell, unceremoniously, onto the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs. His bleary violet eyes were wide in surprise.

“Car _loooos._ ” He whined, his sonorous voice still thick with sleep. “You know how I feel about sensitivity warfare!”

Carlos laughed and bent down to kiss Cecil’s nose.

“All’s fair in love and war, _mi amor._ ” He held out his hand for Cecil as he straightened himself back into a standing position.

Cecil _hmmfed_ as he took Carlos’s outstretched hand. Carlos kissed his cheek as he turned and walked towards the door.

“Are waffles okay for breakfast?” He asked, pausing to turn and look back at the radio host from the door. “The Faceless Old Woman made me coffee this morning, and I’d like to return the favor.”

“Waffles would be delightful.” Cecil said as he unwound himself from the comforter and began to make the bed. “I’ll be there momentarily.”

Carlos nodded, and made his way down the hall.

“Oh,” he called over his shoulder. “The water in the shower is green today, and sort of smells like wax. Thought you might want to know.”

“Hm.” He heard Cecil mumble. “Then it’s going to rain today.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cecil's moss bathmat actually exists! You can find it here! http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/moss-mat-feels-good-looks-grea-75565


	2. Here Comes Cecilos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos and Cecil prepare for their trip, the Faceless Old Woman steals the whipped cream, and Cecil's parka is a probably radioactive. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Song: "Natural" by S Club 7

 

 

The rest of the morning had gone smoothly enough: Carlos had cooked waffles, four of which had become stuck to the ceiling (the Faceless Old Woman seemed to be pleased with his gift of thanks), and six of which had been consumed between Carlos and Cecil, complete with syrup and banana slices. Cecil had tried to find whipped cream to top it with, but no sooner had he pulled it from the refrigerator did it, too, become stuck to the ceiling. In the middle of their meal, the stereo in the corner had also begun blasting loud polka music, and several of Cecil’s potted plants had begun to sway rhythmically to the tune.

Carlos shook his head. “You know, we _could_ just program that stereo to play only channels we approve of.” He had mused between bites of waffle.  “Then she—”

Cecil nearly spit his coffee all over the table as he quickly leant across to stuff the rest of the waffle into his boyfriend’s mouth, thus rendering the scientist unable to finish his sentence.

“Why would you want to do that?!” He asked incredulously.

Carlos, after having recovered from nearly choking, raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you hated polka music?”

“Well, it’s not my favorite, I’ll admit.” Cecil said with a shrug of his shoulders. “But the _last_ thing you want to do is offend the Faceless Old Woman that Secretly Lives in Your Home. Hell hath no fury like a Faceless Old Woman scorned, my dear Carlos. _Hell hath no fury._ ” His deep voice had become dark and serious, and Carlos felt a slight shiver rush down his spine, vividly remembering the Glow Cloud.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He said, glancing up at the ceiling, where the waffles had disappeared, as well as the can of whipped cream.

He and Cecil quickly finished their breakfast, Cecil gulping down another cup of coffee before he rushed to take a shower while Carlos cleaned up. As he heard the water shut off in the bathroom and the distinct _thump_ and a yelp of pain, indicating Cecil had once again whacked his knee on the vanity whilst rummaging for his glasses, he made his way back into the bedroom to retrieve his and Cecil’s bags for the trip.

Cecil’s plum colored bag and his red one sat side by side at the foot of the bed where they had left them the night before, and Carlos made sure to glance inside Cecil’s to confirm that he had made sure to pack warm clothes for the trip. The weather in Night Vale stayed fairly consistent no matter the time of year, but upstate New York was a different story. Sure enough, Cecil had made sure to pack a myriad of sweaters, and Carlos recognized several of the button down dress shirts Cecil usually wore to work.

Satisfied, Carlos grabbed the handles and began the trek to his car outside, where he promptly loaded the bags into the trunk. As he did so, his phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he pulled it out to find a text message waiting for him.

 

_Carmen: We got a good six inches of snow over the weekend, and the weather guy just said we can expect more this week. Hope that desert heat hasn’t made you go all sandpiper on us! ;)_

Carlos rolled his eyes, but sent his sister a reply of thanks anyway before re-pocketing the phone and heading back into the apartment building.

As he walked into the bedroom, he found Cecil half dressed, his button down shirt – purple pinstripes, Carlos noted – laid out neatly on the bed. Cecil’s phone was pressed to his ear, and he was trying to dry his wet hair with his free hand, albeit badly.

“No, no, he’s not picky about flavors, but Cleopatra…yes, that’s the one closest to the towel dispenser…she’ll only eat tuna flavored canned food. I keep a stock under my desk.” He listened to whoever it was on the other line before he smiled that brilliant smile that made Carlos’s ears glow red whenever it was directed at him. “Excellent! Thank you, Dana!” Another pause, and Cecil threw the towel aside, waving his hand almost dismissingly. “Yes, I packed my tape recorder so I can document my travels. It’s in my carry-on. Yes, I _promise_ I’ll update daily, Dana!”

After a few more moments, Cecil nodded his head. “Thank you again, Dana. See you in nine days! Good luck keeping everything in order while I’m gone! I’ll tell Carlos you said hello.” He chuckled. “Bye, Dana.”

He ended the call, and looked at Carlos.

“That was Dana. She’s feeding Khoshekh and his kittens while I’m gone.”

Carlos nodded. “I gathered.” He gestured to the shirt on the bed. “You’ll want something heavier to go over that. Carmen texted and said they got six inches of snow and the Weather Channel website said it’s only about sixteen degrees.”

Cecil’s face lit up and he walked over to the closet, from which he pulled a bright, neon green parka with black and blue trim. It looked like a road working cactus gone wrong, and it hurt Carlos’s eyes.

“I am very well prepared for that, my darling Carlos.” Cecil said. “There was a very unusual day one July where the sun decided not to rise and all of Night Vale was buried in a foot of orange snow that burned if you touched it, and let me tell you, it was _not_ fun to clean off of your car in the morning!”

Carlos blinked and tried to ignore the coat as it practically glowed, but he found that its image had been burned to the back of his eyelids. He shook his head.

“Well…that will certainly keep you from getting lost in the event of a whiteout.” He grinned. “I’m almost convinced you’d be able to see you from a mile away.”

“More like three-quarters of a mile.” Cecil corrected as he pulled his arms into the shirt and began to button it up, pulling the sleeves over his tattoos, the purple tentacles wiggling in protest.

He forewent the tie he usually wore, opting instead for a purple knitted scarf with the NVCR logo on one end. He slipped his purple glasses onto his nose and grinned as he stepped closer to his boyfriend.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” He proclaimed. “How long is the ride to the airport?”

“About an hour.” Carlos answered as he double checked the contents of his backpack, making sure all the chargers and notebooks were there, as well as the few illegal pens he had managed to conceal from the Sheriff’s Secret Police (by hiding them in strategic locations around his lab, such as the loose floorboard in his bedroom underneath the left bedpost; he had even managed to conceal one within the handle of a wooden spoon) before slinging it over his shoulders. “Then we’ll have to get through security, which could take upwards of an hour. Our plane boards at…” He dug in his pocket and produced his phone once more, checking the app. “11:50, so let’s hope security goes fast.”

Cecil grabbed his shoulder bag from the bed and folded his obnoxiously colored coat over his arm. He gave Carlos a quick kiss as he passed him out the door.

Carlos smiled and returned the kiss, but the knots of anxiety in his stomach were hard to ignore as he pulled away to peer into his boyfriend’s eager lavender eyes. Life outside Night Vale was suddenly very close, and so was the halting reality at just how different the world was beyond the city limits. Here they were, about to venture out into the world in which Carlos had spent his entire life up until only a year and a half ago, a world that was bound to be just as strange to Cecil as Night Vale had been to Carlos, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to prepare Cecil for it.

 Without another word, the two of them strode from the apartment, and Cecil locked the door as they shut it behind them before they made their way towards Carlos’s car in the parking lot. Carlos’s head immediately began to hurt as they slipped into the scalding hot interior of the vehicle, but Cecil seemed unfazed.

“So!” Cecil said as Carlos started the car and cranked up the air conditioning as high as it would go. “Care for some music?” He held up his purple iPod.

Carlos shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He said. “Better listen to it now before we leave town. Once we’re in the airport, all you’re hear from there on out is Christmas music.”

“Christmas music isn’t all bad, dear Carlos.” Cecil said as he hooked the MP3 player into the cassette adapter, scrolling through a playlist Carlos could see was titled _Songs That Piss of Steve Carlsberg._ “My own personal favorite is ‘God Rest Ye Of Very Unfortunate Lineage,’ but of course some of the classics like ‘Here We Come a Groveling’ and ‘Santa Claus is Skipping Your House This Year’ are wonderful as well.”

Carlos laughed. “I don’t think you’re going to be hearing any of those variations once we’re out of Night Vale.” He said. “Honestly, I’m still surprised that you celebrate Christmas at all in Night Vale!”

“Of course we do!” Cecil said, indignantly. “When else would we pay our tributes to the invisible statues outside of City Hall?”

Carlos rolled his eyes, but the smile remained firmly planted on his face as he reached over and took Cecil’s hand in his. The tattoos on Cecil’s wrists squirmed in pleasure as the tentacles reached out to touch Carlos’s skin as it brushed their host’s, twisting and curling in acrobatic synchronism. Carlos chuckled; every once in a while he swore he could actually _feel_ the tattoos as they moved, almost as if they were trying to escape from the confines of Cecil’s skin and venture onto his own.

“Stop that, you.” Cecil scolded the tattoos. “Pick a position that’s comfortable, because you’re going to be there for nine days!”

Carlos raised his eyebrow. “You mean they aren’t going to move?”

Cecil shook his head. “No, they only move within the city limits.” He explained. “When I was in Europe while still in college, they didn’t move at all until I returned home.”

“I didn’t know that.” Carlos said. “But I guess it’s for the best.”

Cecil cocked his head. “Why?” He asked. “Don’t you like them?”

“Of course I do! I think they’re beautiful.” He traced the length of one of the tentacles with his finger, momentarily letting go of Cecil’s hand to do so. “It’s just that…well, I don’t think my family has ever seen a sentient tattoo before. I know I hadn’t before I met you! It might…put them off, just a little.”

 _Among other things, if your father is taken into consideration,_ he reminded himself bitterly.

Cecil poked at one of the tattoos, and it slapped at his finger indignantly. “Not to worry.” He assured his scientist. “Once we’re past the city limits, they should cease their movement until we return from our endeavors.”

Carlos chuckled, and brushed his knuckles across the tattoos one last time before he retracted his hand back to the steering wheel. Cecil returned to hooking up his iPod into the adaptor stuck into the cassette player.

_Baby loving you,_

_Comes easily to me_

_It’s what I’m living for,_

_It’s all in the chemistry!_

_Baby loving you,_

_Is how it’s meant to be,_

_It’s something that is_

_Oh so natural to me!_

The song blasted to life as soon as Cecil attached it to the jack, and he quickly silenced it, blushing furiously as he glanced at Carlos, who chuckled.

“S Club 7, huh?” He questioned. “A bit Nineties, wouldn’t you say? It’s not what you usually listen to.”

“Well…” Cecil shrugged. “I heard Intern Cynthia singing it as she worked on some of her homework in the break room at work a couple months ago, and, well…it reminds me of you.”

Carlos squeezed Cecil’s hand before he let go to replace it on the wheel as he put the car into drive and carefully navigated it into the road and down the street, towards the center of town.

“It’s fine.” He said. “Carmen was obsessed with them when we were teenagers. She used to turn that one up especially load whenever she knew I was trying to study, especially when I was studying for chemistry.”

Cecil grinned at him, and finally selected a song from a playlist titled _Be Warned._

As they neared the edge of town, Carlos couldn’t help but glance out of the corner of his eye at Cecil, in particular the sleeves of tattoos. The tattoos were still wiggling and twitching across Cecil’s skin, but just as Carlos directed the car past the sign that said “Welcome to Night Vale, population: varies by day,” the tattoos suddenly stopped moving all together, as though they had never moved in the first place.

Carlos reached out to take Cecil’s hand again, squeezing it.

They were on their way, and for the first time in a while, Carlos was beginning to feel a bit excited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, yes, the chapter titles are spoofs of Christmas carols. ;) Cheesy, yes, but at Christmastime, I hardly care at all! :D
> 
> The lyrics used in this chapter are from S Club 7's "Natural." My best friend is a chemist, and I have sworn that I will have the DJ play this as her first dance song. :)


	3. Carol of the Cries of Fowl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The airport hosts a myriad of wonders, including security checks, x-ray machines, and homophobic assholes. Sounds about right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE. 
> 
> This chapter quickly became one of my favorites to write, and also one of the most challenging things I have ever written. I found that I am VERY uncomfortable with writing homophobic slurs. I myself am not gay, and I found some of the emotions here a bit hard to write, points hard to drive home, but I have several friends who were able to help me get my descriptions and emotions correct, and I must applaud in their bravery, and their willingness to share their stories with me. Thank you!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 -blows kisses-
> 
> Going on, I enjoyed writing this chapter. It was a challenge, and I like a challenge. I also loved the fluffiness that ensued here. :) That really made it worthwhile!

 

The rest of the ride to the airport had been uneventful, save for the plethora of interesting music that emanated from the playlists of Cecil’s iPod. While Cecil had never been one that Carlos would describe as necessarily _quiet,_ the silence that had fallen between them shortly after leaving the parameters of Night Vale behind them had been comfortable, contented, and Carlos had found that he rather enjoyed the companionable feeling it gave him as he dared glances at his boyfriend from the corner of his eyes.

Having parked his car in the secure extended parking lot and making sure that it was checked in properly, Carlos hefted his and Cecil’s bags from the trunk and slammed it shut, locking the car with the fob in his pocket behind him as he and Cecil started towards the looming building before them.

Cecil’s purple eyes were wide with excitement, and Carlos couldn’t help but smile as he watched Cecil gaze upwards as the planes took off overhead, the asphalt below their feet rumbling, the scream of the engines deafening.

They entered the airport and headed to the check in counter. The woman behind the counter – a spritely young woman with golden hair underneath a felt Santa hat, big blue eyes, and a nametag that read “Rylee” – greeted them as they approached.

“Good morning!” She said. “How can I help you?”

“Check in, please.” Carlos said as he handed her his and Cecil’s ticket information. She inspected them carefully and typed the information into the computer. As she did so, Cecil’s cell phone suddenly started ringing, and he stepped away from Carlos to answer it.

“Alright, you’re just about set.” Rylee said as she finished typing in the last of the information. “Nothing perishable or hazardous inside?”

Carlos suppressed a chuckle as he shook his head. If only this girl knew where he and Cecil were coming from!

Rylee had him lift both of the bags onto the scale, and she tagged them and set them on the conveyor belt. She handed Carlos his tickets.

“Terminal 37.” She instructed, smiling at him warmly. “Have a Merry Christmas!”

“And you as well.” Carlos smiled back at her.

He found Cecil standing a few from the line, his phone pocketed.

“That was Dana.” He said, his face nonchalant. “Apparently Intern Silas was corporeally absorbed by a wormhole that randomly appeared in the women’s restroom earlier today, and when he came back out of it, his right hands had become his left, and his left hands became his right.”

Carlos blinked. “Hands?”

“Of course! He has four arms on each side. Why?”

Carlos shook his head. “Never mind.” He held up their tickets. “Terminal 37. Are you ready?”

Cecil grinned and slipped his hand into Carlos’s. “Yes!” He said enthusiastically.

Carlos smiled at him, but the fingers laced with his were like fire on frostbite as he dared glances out of the corner of his eyes at the people walking past them. He swallowed as he saw one middle aged couple eyeing them suspiciously, as though they were holding pipe bombs.

Had he been younger, by even just a few years, had he not seen many of the things in the last year and a half that had been seared into his memory for all eternity, had he been the man he had been before, Carlos would have dropped Cecil’s hand right there and then. He would have avoided the hurt look that would have undoubtedly crossed his boyfriend’s face, the confusion in his eyes, and made up an excuse to hurry things along without touching the other man. He would have given into the judgmental stares, cracked under the pressure like a test tube being trod upon, or a beaker being cooled too quickly after being removed from a flame.

But Carlos was not that man. Not any longer.

Instead, Carlos held Cecil’s hand tighter, as though terrified that the man would disappear right then and there, like a puff of smoke into a vortex. He refused to allow complete strangers to force him to feel ashamed. So instead, he ignored the couple and gently led Cecil away before he could notice the couple’s patronizing glances.

Cecil’s step was light as they walked towards the – blessedly short – line that would lead them through security. He busied himself by scanning the information on his and Cecil’s tickets, turning them over to read the insurance and return policy information on the back, if only to avoid making eye contact with anyone who might have been staring like the couple at the check-in had been. Cecil bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, his hand still clenching tightly to Carlos’s, and when he dared a glance out the corner of his eye at his scientist, he grinned. Carlos caught it, and gave him a small grin back in reply, stuffing the tickets into his jacket pocket.

Finally, they neared the conveyor belts. Carlos let go of Cecil’s hand to remove his shoes and place them in the plastic bin, followed by his backpack, removing his laptop and placing it in its own bin, followed by his black coat. Cecil cocked his head to the side, studying Carlos’s actions intently.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“You have to take your shoes off and put them in these.” Carlos said, gesturing to the bins. “Your bag has to go in one, too, so they can x-ray it.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

“Well, to make sure you don’t have anything dangerous in your luggage.” Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. It had been years since Cecil had even left Night Vale, let alone flown; in fact, he was fairly certain that his trip to Europe – if it could even be considered Europe; all of the countries Cecil had mentioned were not ones that Carlos had ever seen on any map before – was the first and only time Cecil had ever flown, and surely that was well over a decade before, at least.

“And why would you want to take something dangerous onto a plane?” Cecil questioned as he tugged his feet from his shoes.

Carlos shrugged. “I wish I could tell you.” He said. He cocked an eyebrow. “Why would you want to take a pen out in public?”

Cecil shushed him. “That’s not funny, and you know it.” He said as he gently placed his shoes and various electronics into a bin, followed closely by his bright green parka.

“Same basic principle.” Carlos said as he pushed the bin towards the x-ray machine and stood behind the man in front of him. “Now, here you’re going to walk through the metal detectors and then we can get our stuff and get to our terminal.”

Cecil nodded, and watched as Carlos was beckoned forward through the metal detectors into a chamber-like cylinder, where he raised his hands above his head and stood still after handing the man on the other side of the chamber his metal framed glasses. The walls of the chamber rotated around him, and he was allowed to exit to the other side.

Cecil watched, fascinated, as he waited patiently for his turn. After a few seconds, he was asked to step into the cylinder. He handed his watch – the one true time piece in all of Night Vale – to the security guard on the other side of the chamber, a bit anxious at the prospect of parting with it, even if he knew that it was in safe hands.

“Glasses too, please.” The guard asked. Cecil slipped the plastic frames from his nose and handed them to her. He then turned and raised his arms above his head and stood very still, just as Carlos had done, as the walls of the chamber encased him; Cecil couldn’t stop the shiver that ran ominously down his spine as it did so, and he suddenly felt extremely exposed, though he was not exactly sure why. A faint beep later, and Cecil was told he could exit.

The security officer handed him back his watch and glasses, which he gratefully placed back on his face, allowing the world to swim back into complete focus. Cecil quickly rejoined Carlos, who waited him near the end of the conveyor belt, Cecil’s shoulder bag, parka, and shoes in hand.

“Well that went fast.” Carlos said as he handed Cecil his bag and parka. “Which is surprising. I was stuck in security for over three hours once while trying to get from LA to North Carolina for a conference.”

“ _That_ was an invasion of privacy.” Cecil mumbled as he slid his feet back into his shoes.

Carlos laughed. “That’s how I felt about the Secret Police!” He said. “And they _aren’t_ an invasion of privacy?”

“Of course not!” Cecil protested. 

“The SSP watch me brush my teeth! _Brush my teeth._ I had one officer tell me I’d missed a bicuspid and that they would report me for a mandatory dental visit if I didn’t go back and brush again just last week.”

“And if they hadn’t, you may have developed gingivitis.”

“Cecil, they’ve watched us having sex.” Carlos said as they joined hands once more and walked away from security. “I had several random people I didn’t even know giving me high fives and knowing looks in the grocery store for a week.”

Cecil ignored him. “The Sheriff’s Secret Police are there to protect us, dear Carlos.” He said. “They’re only doing their job.”

Carlos shook his head, deciding against trying to convince the broadcaster that the SSP and airport security essentially served the same purpose – the Sheriff’s Secret Police he was a bit more inclined to question – even if the procedures and implementations differed. He scanned the area in front of them and pointed to the black sign that hung from the ceiling ahead.

“Our terminal is that way.” He said. “We still have about twenty five minutes before our plane boards. Do you want to stop and get a bagel and coffee first? If not, you can always get a snack on the plane, but I can’t say I condone the consumption of airline food.” He grinned, but Cecil only cocked his head slightly to the side, just as he had back at security, clearly confused by Carlos’s attempts at humor. He waved his hand. “Never mind.”

Cecil smiled, his purple eyes soft and warm, and he shook his head. “Silly Carlos.” He said softly as he pecked Carlos affectionately on the cheek and wrapped his arms around the scientist. “Sometimes you make absolutely no sense.”

Out the corner of his eye, Carlos saw an elderly woman about the same age as his _abuela_ staring, her eyes narrowed in obvious disgust. He swallowed the lump at the back of his throat.

 _You’re going to have to explain it to him eventually, Carlos._ His conscious chided. _It’s not fair to keep him in the dark._

Cecil remained contentedly pressed against his chest for a few seconds more, and Carlos felt his ears begin to burn as a group of teenage boys walked past, sniggering loudly and pointing.

“Hey, check out the fags!” A tall, dark haired boy with multiple piercings in his lips and eyebrows said. His friends guffawed. “Hey, fags! Get a room!”

Carlos’s cheeks flushed, and he resisted the urge to pull away from Cecil as though he had burned him. These boys were nothing but attention seeking, juvenile, and crude. He would not allow them the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to get under his skin.

“Yeah! Go fuck each other somewhere else! This is a public place!” The boy at his right, a short, stocky blond, added.

“Don’t let them touch you, or you’ll catch the gay!” Sneered another.

Cecil pulled away from Carlos’s chest, frowning at the boys before he turned his head to look at the furiously blushing Carlos, whose hands were clenched tightly at his sides.

“Carlos, what are those boys saying?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Carlos said, a bit curtly as he took Cecil’s hand firmly. “They’re just looking for attention. Ignore them.”

He turned and began to tug Cecil in the other direction when something flew past their heads, narrowly missing clipping Carlos on the cheek as it did so. It fell to the floor in front of them with a clatter, and Carlos realized it was an empty Mountain Dew can. He glared over his shoulder at the boys as he let go of Cecil’s hand and stooped to pick it up and dropped it wordlessly in the nearest trash can before he continued on, away from the teens.

“Go jump in front of a bus, queers!” The boys called after them as they walked away. “You’d be doing the world a favor!”

Carlos felt the anger – and, admittedly, humiliation – boiling deep in the pit of his stomach, and he bit his tongue as he and Cecil walked down the hall towards their terminal, leaving the boys behind them. Carlos squeezed Cecil’s hand tightly, his teeth clenched, his brow furrowed, and he set his sights on the sign that read ‘37’ in bright red letters at the far end of the way, refusing to make eye contact with anyone that they passed as they wove their way through the crowd, even though he knew a few of them were staring.

 _Let them stare._ He thought bitterly. _Don’t let them get to you, Carlos. Focus._

Finally, they reached the terminal, and Carlos immediately honed in on the seats nearest the big bay window, which offered them the chance to not only see the planes as they came and went down the runway, but they were also the seats farthest away from the small crowd of people that were gathered in the waiting area. He let go of Cecil’s hand and sat himself down, a bit harder than intended, into a chair, and dug his phone from his pocket to distract himself as Cecil sat down next to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look his boyfriend in the eye; the knowledge that he had failed to bring the truth of the world to Cecil’s table before allowing him to taste it was too much now that it was impossible to avoid it further.

Cecil chewed his lip as he watched his boyfriend seethe. He had never seen his beloved scientist so angry before, so incredibly red in the face, even when Cecil had accidentally blown up at least half of the experiment on the whispering mushrooms he had found growing in the lab’s bathroom between the tiles next to the shower by playing around with a few of the chemicals. (Of course, at that point, after having assessed the damage and cleaned up the mess, Carlos had just been thankful that Cecil hadn’t done any further damage, and had escaped with little more than a paper cut.) It worried Cecil, because he wasn’t sure, exactly, what was causing Carlos to behave in such a way, but he was fairly certain the impertinent boys back near security probably had something to do with it, though he still wasn’t entirely sure what they had meant, nor what the names they had called them alluded to, or why they had thrown a soda can at their heads.

Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on Carlos’s knee, which seemed to startle the scientist as he finally looked at Cecil, his soft brown eyes blazing.

“Carlos?” Cecil said quietly. “What’s the matter?”

Carlos sighed, heavily, and he looked down at the geometric patterns in the carpet.

“Cecil, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” He said, his usually calm tenor voice cracked and hesitant.

“Go on.” Cecil urged. “What’s bothering you? Was it what those boys back there said?”

Carlos nodded.

“But why?” Cecil asked. “What _were_ they even saying?”

Carlos sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

“Cecil…life…outside of Night Vale is different. _Very_ different. There’s a reason I was so put off with it when I first came into town…for more reasons than just the scientific.”

Cecil nodded. “I understand that Night Vale is different, Carlos. Otherwise it wouldn’t be Night Vale.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but Carlos’s face remained stern, his expression sad, and he shook his head.

“No, Cecil, it’s not just that. Here…” He trailed off, leaning forward in his chair, positioning himself on his knees. After a moment, he looked back at Cecil.

“You know I love you, right?” He asked, his voice suddenly filled with urgency.

Cecil blinked. “Of course!” He said. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Because, if there’s one thing you need to know, it’s that no matter what, I love you.” Carlos reached out and laid his hand on Cecil’s. “But…here, there are people who don’t get that. There are people here who hate us for who we are, for who we love, for the fact that we’re two men in a relationship, even going so far as to encourage others to do the same. In Night Vale, despite all the things that Night Vales _does_ care about, like wheat and wheat by-products and illegal pens and not mentioning the Dog Park—” Cecil’s eyebrows rose in alarm, and Carlos squeezed his hand in reassurance. “—something that Night Vale _doesn’t_ care about is the sexual orientation of its citizens. Am I right?”

Cecil nodded, slowly. “I suppose.” He said. He cocked an eyebrow. “But I still don’t understand.”

Carlos struggled for the right words. Growing up surrounded by homophobic dogma and stereotypes and intolerance (on top of the racial prejudices as well), Carlos had become used to the fact that the world did not, as a whole, accept who he was and what he felt, and there were times when he felt that it never would, and he had learned, over time, to accept this fact. This did not mean he was desensitized to the unfair way he was viewed, and treated, as a gay man in a straight society; the emotions that still swam in his stomach, curling around his heart and mind like Cecil’s tattoos, were very much a testament to that. He had known that this moment would come, that eventually the unavoidable truth would make itself known, and it would come back to bite him in the ass that he hadn’t broached the subject with his boyfriend of his own volition. In Night Vale, the relationship he and Cecil had was _normal._ Of all the things that occurred in the most scientifically interesting city in the world, the fact that they were two gay men in love and in an open relationship was the most normal. And, if he were completely honest with himself, that was the concept that he had had the hardest time wrapping his mind around. Even the polar resonances and earthquakes that defied all sensation and Dog Park that denied all logic were small and explainable compared to the acceptance of his sexuality.

“I don’t know that _I_ understand it, Cecil, and I grew up with it.” Carlos admitted. “But you need to understand that we aren’t in Night Vale anymore, and there are going to be times like back at security, and there will be people just like those boys. I wanted to tell you sooner, but…I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.”

Cecil squeezed his hand tightly.

“No, no, Carlos, you have nothing to be sorry for!” He insisted, his purple eyes earnest. “Nothing at all!”

Carlos sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“But I _do,_ Cecil, that’s the thing.” He said. “I can explain so many things to you. I can explain the difference between valence and core electrons, tell you the atomic mass of any of the elements on the periodic table from memory. I can tell you how to conduct an experiment to withdraw all the information needed to construct a complete molecular model. I can tell you proper lab procedures, I can tell you how to gather data and write an analysis, how to apply for a grant. But I can’t…I can’t tell you _why_ people are they way they are. I _can’t_ explain why people hate us for who we are. I can’t break down homophobia into any sort of tangible argument, Cecil, because nothing about it is cohesive, nothing about it makes sense, nothing about it is even remotely explicable.” He shook his head and buried is face in his hands. “And I’m so sorry I let you come into this without any sort of idea as to what you could be getting yourself into, being in a relationship with me in a world like this.”

Cecil swallowed, and allowed Carlos’s words to sink in. He had encountered many things in his thirty-two years. _Many_ things. He had seen so much, said so much, heard so much. He had never been told he was wrong for being attracted to other men, no matter how few others like him there were in Night Vale. He could not remember many things – his father, his mother’s favorite color, his brother’s height – but he _could_ remember that he had only ever been surrounded by people that loved him, cared about him, people that never judged him, despite his eccentricities and penchant for rambling about his personal life over the radio waves.

He couldn’t imagine the pain Carlos must have gone through, growing up _here,_ where he was told he was _wrong,_ that something that made Carlos _Carlos_ – beautiful, perfectly imperfect, kind, loving, tender Carlos – was wrong, was something to be ashamed of, was something that he should keep hidden. And why? For what? Because he was romantically interesting in men instead of women? Why was this such an issue? What made it inexcusable? What made it wrong? What made Carlos wrong?

Cecil was unsure what he was supposed to say. He had no idea what to say to soothe his obviously distressed boyfriend, to assure him that he was alright, that he was a fighter, in many senses of the word, and could take anything that Carlos’s world had to offer him, even the idea that he was supposed to be ashamed of loving another man – an idea he would rebuke to the outer edges of the void itself. Cecil was a Night Valean, after all, and Night Valeans were born survivors.

“How inconsiderably dull.” He said finally.

Carlos looked at him, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What’s dull?”

“The idea that one cannot be in love with someone of the same gender simply because someone else may or may not view it as morally compromising.” Cecil said, his voice confident and reassuring as he ran his thumb over Carlos’s knuckles.

Carlos shook his head. “Cecil, you don’t understand…”

Cecil cut him off. “Are they like that?” He asked suddenly, very softly.

“Who?”

“Your family. Are they…homophobic, too? Is that why you haven’t seen them in over a year?”

“Oh.” Carlos shook his head. “No, that’s not the reason. It’s been a conflict of schedules, really. We talk frequently enough, you know that. But to answer your question, no, my family is not nearly as homophobic as the rest of the world, but…”

“But?”

“My father. He…he is.” Carlos admitted. “He doesn’t really like to talk about it, so we all sort of just ignore it when he’s around. We don’t mention it, you know?”

Cecil clucked his tongue. “That may be a bit hard this year, dear Carlos.”

Carlos chuckled, finally allowing himself to smile, if only a bit.

“He _does_ want to meet you.” He assured him. “The way I’ve talked about you, he’s at the very least curious. He’s just…”

Cecil changed the subject, abruptly, sensing Carlos’s unease.

“What about your mother? And your siblings? Are they… _homophobic_ —” He says the word awkwardly, half between spitting and trying to refrain from using it all together, as though the word left a strange taste in his mouth. “—too?”

“No, not at all. Mamá is actually really supportive, and accepting. I came out when I was sixteen, and I remember crying when Dad got upset and refused to talk to me, and she just held me and told me that everything was going to be okay, and that she’d love me no matter what, gay or not. Andre and Carmen never had an issue with it. I was their brother, same as always. Nothing ever really changed there.”

 “Why did your father refuse to talk to you?” Cecil pressed.

Carlos shrugged. “Dad was always…a bit old fashioned. He always expected me and my brother to grow up to be men, to play sports in high school and get married and have kids and carry on the family line. And when I decided I wanted to join the marching band and debate teams and mess around with chemistry sets in my room instead of throw around a football, it was like…his plan was becoming a little skewed. He still loved me, Cecil, and I know he was proud when I got a scholarship to Caltech and everything.” He sighed. “But…the night I came out, he got really upset. I mean ‘storm away from the table and slam the door' upset _._ He told me that I was ruining my future, because not only was I already a member of a minority, but now I was a sub-minority as well.He screamed at me that I was committing a sin against God and that I would never truly be as happy with another man as I could be with a woman. And he never really apologized for it, either. He just…sort of swept it under the rug, and we never talked about it again. Carried on like it had never happened.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. They still had ten minutes before their plane would board.

He continued and looked back at Cecil, his brown eyes meeting the other man’s purple.

“You need to be aware of this, Cec.” Cecil visibly perked up at the use of Carlos’s petname for him. “My father is a homophobe, yes. There’s no denying that, no getting around to it. And my _abuela,_ my grandmother…she doesn’t know. We never told her. This will be the first time she’s ever been told that I’m gay. She’s like my dad: she’s very religious, and old fashioned, and there’s always the chance that she could take it badly. I don’t want you to feel like it’s your fault if that happens, okay? Because it’s not. It will be mine for having to told her sooner, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone that you aren’t just to please them.”

Cecil nodded. “I understand.” He said. “I never planned on being anyone but myself. It’s rather hard to be someone else, don’t you think?”

Carlos squeezed Cecil’s hand.

“Yes.” He said. “I’d imagine.”

“Besides,” Cecil went on, flippantly. “Who are they to judge me – to judge _us –_ anyhow? In Night Vale, if there is one thing that we understand and appreciate, it is to live each moment as if it were your last, because who knows? It very well could be.” He was using his Radio Voice, and Carlos allowed the velvet syllables wrap around his body like a warm blanket straight from the dryer, relishing in the tingly sensations he felt in his stomach whenever he was near the bubbly radio host. It made him feel safe, protected.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But…I’m not so sure they’ll be able to see it that way, Cecil.”

“Life is far too short to be concerned with who should and should not be allowed to be together.” Cecil whispered as he leaned across the armrest of the seat to press a kiss to the silver hair at Carlos’s temple. “And if they cannot understand that, then I must say that I pity them. What a sad view to have of such a beautiful life.”

In a moment of sudden impulsivity, Carlos turned his head, and planted a kiss to Cecil’s lips, firm but gentle, and he felt Cecil respond after a second of surprise.

“I love you.” Carlos said as he pulled away, smiling at the blond man beside him.

Cecil smiled back at him, and reached out to brush a dark curl from Carlos’s caramel colored forehead.

“As long as I have you, dear Carlos, I believe I can handle anything your world has to throw at me.” He said. And he meant it.

The speakers overhead dinged, and a tinny female voice informed them in both English and Spanish that their flight was about to board. The two men stood to their feet, gathering their things quickly as they did so, and Carlos laced their fingers together as they neared the reception desk to check their tickets.

“Are you ready?” He said. “It’s been a while since you’ve been on a plane. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Cecil flicked his wrist.

“We have gravity shifts and floating spells in Night Vale all the time. You know that.” He said as the receptionist scanned their tickets and politely told them to enjoy their flight as they walked down the terminal towards the awaiting plane. “How different could it be, really?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By far the longest chapter I've written in a LONG time. :) I hope I managed to convey everything that needed to be addressed properly. If anything seems off, please feel free to let me know! I'd appreciate the input. :) 
> 
> Hope everyone is enjoying the Christmas season so far! I know I am!!! :D


	4. O Holy Solid Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecil gets airsick, and Carlos insists on bagels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently cocooned in a cozy down comforter in my quiet living room whilst a winter storm rages outside, which is providing copious amounts of inspiration, especially considering something I've had planned from the beginning that is yet to come. ;) FINALLY, exams are over and I'm out for winter break, so I'm looking forward to finishing this by Christmas, if not just after. :) 
> 
> Also, did you know that writing about bagels really makes you crave them? Good thing there's a Tim Horton's here in town...
> 
> Oh, and I gave Carlos a last name. I settled on Ramirez.

As it turned out, flying and floating were two  _very_ distinctive things. And in the end, Cecil got airsick.

Carlos soothingly rubbed Cecil's back as the line of their fellow passengers began to slowly file down the aisle towards the front of the plane. Cecil was curled into a small ball, his long legs drawn as close to his body as the narrow seat would allow, his hideously colored parka wrapped around him like a blanket. His cheek was pressed firmly against the scratchy upholstery of the seat, his eyes closed tightly. Carlos had removed his glasses and tucked them safely into the protective case he carried in his laptop bag, and had slipped the airsickness bag under the seat so that it was out of the way, and wouldn't get trampled as everyone stumbled past.

Cecil moaned, piteously, and Carlos felt his heart break a little bit. He felt bad for the radio host, and he felt even worse that there was little more he could do for him than continue to rub gentle circles into his back and wait for everyone else to exit the plane so they could get Cecil back onto solid ground. He hadn't even thought to pack Dramamine; he hadn't gotten motion sickness in years, since he was a kid, and he certainly hadn't expected Cecil – the most adaptable to changes in altitude alterations and shifts in equilibrium of the two of them – to get sick, either.

"Almost there, Cec." He murmured in Cecil's ear as he smoothed back some of the slightly damp white blond hair from Cecil's forehead. "Just a few more minutes, okay?"

Cecil groaned in reply, refusing to move from his current position any further than he had to, lest he be sick once more. His stomach was still in knots, his intestines on fire, and he could still taste the acrid bile at the back of his throat, despite the water and ginger ale Carlos had been making him drink. The flight had been nearly four and a half hours long, nonstop, and Cecil was certain that it had taken any longer, he would most certainly have died of not only embarrassment, but complete and utter boredom (if the airsickness didn't get him first, which he was certain it would before either of those things could be considered). The few moments of sleep he had managed to catch during the duration of the flight had been fleeting, shallow, and unsatisfying at making the time – and the nausea – go away. Carlos – sweet, gentle, caring Carlos – had tried to keep him as comfortable as possible, even going so far as to place Cecil's headphones over his ears so that the soothing tones of Disparition and other ambient sounds could flood past his eardrums and into his throbbing brain. It helped, just a little.

 _Good thing I advised against the airline food._  Carlos thought, trying to make the situation as light as possible as he eyed the last few passengers as they shook hands with the pilot before finally making their exit.

The kind flight attendant that had made sure to keep them well supplied with paper bags and bottles of water smiled as he neared them, a white biohazard bag in his hands. Liam, if Carlos was correct, was his name. The nametag confirmed his suspicions.

"Everyone else has exited the plane." He said quietly. "If you want, I can take those bags for you so you don't have to worry about them."

Carlos nodded, and bent down to retrieve the puke bag from beneath the seat in front of him, glad to be rid of its presence as he dropped it into the bag.

"Thank you." He said as he stood, his legs achy and numb from the long sit. With Cecil as sick as he'd been, Carlos hadn't dared leave his side, even for a momentary trip to the bathroom when the seatbelt signs had been turned off. He gathered his and Cecil's belongings before he bent down and gently shook Cecil's shoulder. His boyfriend moaned at the jarring.

"Come on, Cecil." He said, trying to sound as gentle and soothing as possible. "Everyone's gone. We can get off now."

Cecil moaned again, but his purple eyes opened, blearily, and he shook his head.

"Can't move." He said simply. "I'll be sick again if I do."

"No, you won't." Carlos assured him. "You'll be alright. The sooner we get off the plane, the sooner we can find a convenience store and get you some motion sickness meds, then maybe something in your stomach."

After a moment's hesitation, Cecil nodded, and set his stiff legs on the floor, shakily standing to his feet. He wobbled and nearly fell over, had Carlos not reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Easy, Cecil, easy." Carlos soothed. "I've got you."

Cecil managed a small smile. "Sweet Carlos, you truly are my knight in shining lab coat."

Carlos chuckled as he wound his arm around Cecil's waist, making sure his parka stayed on his shoulders. "Alright there, Casanova." He mumbled. "Let's get you off the plane and then we can talk about who's saving who, okay?"

Slowly, the two made their way forward to the front of the plane, where Carlos managed to shake the hand of the pilot in passing.

"Thanks." He said. "Merry Christmas."

"And to you!" The pilot replied, smiling politely.

Carlos turned to Liam and shook his hand as well.

"You have  _no idea_ how much we appreciate everything." He said. "Thanks."

Liam offered a squeeze of his hand. "My pleasure."

Carlos felt the cold bit of the fresh New York air as they walked from the plane through the terminal, finally emerging into the crowded hallway of the airport. JFK was always teeming with life, but at Christmastime, the usual number was at least tripled, if not quadrupled, and Carlos was thankful that neither he nor Cecil were claustrophobic. He carefully guided his boyfriend, still slightly green in the face, through the throngs of people, immediately setting his sights on the benches that lined the wall ten feet away. Very gently he lowered Cecil onto it, and sat down next to him, resuming rubbing the broadcaster's back as he put his head between his knees, hands folded on the back of his neck.

"That was mortifying." Cecil grumbled. "Absolutely undignified."

Carlos smirked at his boyfriend's indignation. It was highly probable that Cecil would never again encounter any of the people who had bore witness to his unfortunate bought of vomiting into a paper bag, but he understood his boyfriend's embarrassment. His first trip out of Night Vale in over a decade, and he gets sick in front of dozens of people (the number was actually closer to only 16, which was the number of people Carlos had counted around them that had actually taken notice of Cecil's predicament during the flight, but he still understood the underlying math).

"It's alright." Carlos said as he lightly stroked Cecil's hair lovingly. "We're on the ground again, and you're going to be alright. As soon as we get something in your stomach, you should bounce back from this like you always do."

Cecil's head raised, and Carlos noticed he was squinting at the ground, and he remembered that he still had Cecil's glasses in his bag. He quickly produced them and pressed them into Cecil's palm, and his boyfriend slipped them onto his nose.

"Blessed solid ground." Cecil murmured as he swallowed, and forced a small smile Carlos's way. "If I still didn't feel like I was going to be sick, the possibility of me kissing it would be moderate at least."

"That's unsanitary." Carlos chided, but he smiled anyway. He squeezed Cecil's arm. "Do you want me to go find you something to eat?"

A small flicker of fear flashed behind Cecil's violet eyes, and he shook his head.

"No." He said. "I'd rather come with you."

Carlos nodded; in hindsight, leaving Cecil by himself in the middle of JFK when he had no idea where he was or how anything worked, in a city he had never been to was probably a bad idea.

After a few more minutes, Cecil finally sighed, and sat all the way up. He looked at Carlos.

"I'm ready." He said.

Carlos held out his hand and helped his boyfriend stand. Cecil's grip did not lessen on Carlos's hand as he gathered his parka and bag and the two began the trek down the hall.

Cecil's eyes were wide as he surveyed the strange new world before him, butterflies of anxiety, excitement, and confusion swirling in the pit of his stomach all at once, as well as the after effects of the airsickness. Here he was, just outside of New York City,  _with his perfectly imperfect Carlos._ It was an adventure, and it was all his, and while he fought against the raging emotions that battled for dominance, he was ecstatic. Cecil was naturally observant, and his senses were in overdrive as he soaked up the environment around him. The sounds, the smells, the colors, the energy! Everything about it was invigorating, almost intoxicating. He couldn't wait to tell Dana about it via tape recorder later.

He felt a squeeze on his hand, and he turned his head for find Carlos smiling at him.

"Well?" He asked. "Airsickness aside, what do you think about the world outside of Night Vale?"

"It's  _amazing._ " Cecil gushed. "Everything about it is so…neat!"

His face flushed in embarrassment, and he suppressed a groan.

 _Neat?! Oh, Cecil, you can do better than that…_ He thought miserably.

Carlos chuckled.

"I wish I had time to show you the city. My brother, sister, and I always looked forward to trips to Manhattan." He said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But we need to get on the road. It's a two hour drive to Mamá and Dad's."

Cecil squeezed Carlos's hand. "That's alright." He said. "I think I'd rather meet your parents anyway."

Carlos's face flushed slightly, and Cecil knew it was because he had been so nervous.

"Besides," Carlos said quickly to dispel any thoughts about the subject. "I think Carmen wanted to come out to the city later this week to get some last minute Christmas shopping done, so we could always tag along with her…"

Cecil laid his head against Carlos's shoulder, smiling contentedly. He didn't care what they did, just so long as he was with his Carlos.

Carlos led him down the hall, past the bustling hoards of people crowding through the stores that lined the way, clicking away at their phones, pulling their suitcases behind them. After a few minutes, Carlos pointed to a small restaurant in the distance.

"There's a bagel shop there. They've got  _great_ homemade cream cheese." He said.

Cecil stifled a laugh. "What is it with you and bagels today?" He asked as his stomach growled at the thought. He quirked an eyebrow. "Are bagels suddenly at the top of the scientific inquiry list?"

Carlos grinned. "Nah," he said. "I've just been craving bagels lately. I haven't had any since the ban on the wheat and wheat by-products."

"You can buy gluten free ones at the Ralph's, you know."

"Yes, I am aware. But they're always rubbery and taste like cardboard." Carlos objected. "Besides, the last time I bought cream cheese, the Faceless Old Woman ate it all before I had a chance to even get a spoonful!"

Cecil shrugged. "She has quite a taste for cheeses, it seems."

"Which is why I try to keep myself well stocked." Carlos agreed. They finally reached the restaurant, and quickly took their place in line. "Besides, we may not be in the city, but there's nothing quite like a New York bagel."

 

...oOo...

 

Carlos had been right of course, Cecil admitted as the two of them jostled their suitcases into the back of the tiny rental car: there really wasn't anything quite like a New York bagel, not even a slice from Big Rico's. He had had his fair share of them in his life prior to the wheat and wheat by-products ban, especially considering their convenience, and his alarm clock's penchant for forgetting about cancelled Wednesdays, but  _golly_ Carlos had been right. While Carlos had stuck to a whole grain bagel with plain cream cheese, Cecil had opted for a cinnamon raisin one with strawberry cream cheese on one half, and pineapple on the other. The combination had been quite eclectic, he had found, and he liked it, even though the lady on the other side of the counter had looked at him as though he had three eyes when he'd placed his order.

He contentedly nibbled on the rest of the bagel as he slid himself inside the warmth of the car. While the air outside was chilly, and the sky was overcast, Cecil had been disappointed to find not a single flake of snow falling from the clouds, or on the ground. Carlos had explained that the airport used special vehicles known as  _snowmelters_ – which sounded absolutely ominous, in Cecil's opinion, and he hoped that none of them ever gained sentience – to melt away the snow surrounding the runways and parking lots of the airport to allow for safer travel. Carlos had sensed his disappointment, and had promised that he would not be nearly as downcast as they traveled upstate.

Cecil sat the bagel on the dashboard and pulled his arms out of his parka, gently folding it and placing it in the backseat on top of his suitcase. He pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it on, having had to power it down for the flight, finding three missed calls from Dana, and six texts from her and Intern Franz, concerning a pocket dimension opening in the drain of the men's bathroom floor. Dana sounded unconcerned, but the screams of Intern Franz could be heard in the background before Dana finally yelled back, "Franz,  _really._ So you lost your pinky toe! You'll grow a new one next week!"

Chuckling, Cecil texted her back and finished his bagel just as Carlos appeared back at the driver's side door, slipping inside and rubbing his hands together.

"Well, that deposit was atrocious." He said as he placed the key in the ignition. "$200 down."

Cecil patted his arm in sympathy.

"At least it's not a tan Corolla." He said, shuddering as he did so.

His comment went unnoticed as Carlos reversed the car and pulled away from the parking lot. As they neared the street that would take them to the expressway, Carlos's phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and handed it to Cecil.

"It's Carmen." He said. "Could you answer and tell her we're on our way? I don't want to talk and drive."

Cecil took the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Hellllloooo?" He drawled, unsure of what else to say his boyfriend's sister, of whom he had never spoken to.

"Um, hello?" A bright voice said from the other end of the line, though Cecil could clearly hear her confusion. "This is Carmen? Carlos Ramirez's sister? Iiiiiiiiis he available?"

"Hello, Carmen. He's currently driving, and is thusly indisposed at the moment."

"May I ask with whom I am speaking?" Carmen asked.

"This is Cecil, Carlos's boyfriend."

There was a gasp on the other end of the phone, and Carmen's voice became excited as she stumbled for words.

"Oh my gosh, it's about  _time_ I get to hear that voice of yours!" She gushed. "As much as Carlos talks about it, you'd think he'd have the decency to send a video or a recording every once in a while."

Cecil smiled. "He talks about my voice?"

Carlos turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Only in every email he's sent me since last year!" Carmen said. She digressed. "So you said he's driving at the moment?"

"We just acquired our rental car and Carlos complained about the deposit, and now we're nearing the road." Cecil informed her, a bit of his Radio Voice slipping through as he filled her in on the details. "Carlos said it's about two hours more and we should be there?"

"Oh, good." Carmen said. "Mamá was wondering if she should set two more places at the table for dinner. I hope you like enchiladas."

"I don't think I can say that I've had an enchilada that I did not at least moderately enjoy." Cecil agreed.

There was an incoherent voice speaking behind Carmen, and Carmen's voice became a bit warbled as she obviously removed the phone from her face for a moment. Cecil was sure he heard his and Carlos's names amid what he realized was rapid Spanish, and he silently cursed himself for deciding to take Modified Sumarian in college instead of Spanish.

After a few more seconds, Carmen returned.

"Sorry about that, Cecil." She said. "But Mamá wants to speak with Carlos. Could you put him on for a minute?"

"Of course." Cecil replied. He held the phone out towards Carlos. "She says that your mother wishes to speak with you."

Carlos took the phone and pressed it to his ear.

" _Hola?_ " There was a pause, and Cecil felt the familiar, thrilled tingle he got whenever Carlos spoke in Spanish run down his spine. " _Si, estamos en nuestro camino ahora, mamá. Estaremos allí en unas dos horas._ " He paused again. " _Si, Mamá, Cecil trajo un abrigo. Lo sabrás cuando lo veas._ "

After a few more moments, Carlos smiled. " _Te quiero, también, Mamá. Nos vemos pronto._ "

From there, he hit the End Call button, and placed the phone in the cup holder.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you speak Spanish?" Cecil grinned. "Even though I have no idea what you're saying."

Carlos chuckled. "You've told me numerous times,  _querido._ " He said, affection evident in his voice.

"I do, though!" Cecil insisted. "It's like your voice is made for it!"

"Just as yours was made for radio?" Carlos raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, exactly!" Cecil confirmed. "Not that your voice isn't lovely when you're speaking English, or what little Modified Sumarian I've taught you! It's like caramel and oak."

"I know, you've told me." Carlos said. "And all of Night Vale on the radio. Numerous times. Do you know how long it took for Douglas to stop calling me Professor Oak in the lab after you described my voice that way the first time?  _Months,_ Cecil,  _months._ I finally told him that if he asked me if he could have Eevee as his starter Pokémon one more time, I was going to make him ring the doorbell to the House That Doesn't Exist. That shut him up."

Cecil blinked.

"What's a Pokémon?"

Carlos shook his head. "Never mind." He said. "Just make sure you don't mention it to Carmen; she and I were big fans when we were younger."

Cecil shrugged before he yawned, widely.

"Why don't you try and get a nap in?" Carlos said. "It's going to get dark here soon, so there won't be much to see, and we still have two hours ahead of us." When Cecil opened his mouth to protest, Carlos cut him off. "I'll wake you up before we get there, I promise."

Cecil hesitated a moment before he yawned again.

"I suppose the few moments of sleep I conjured on the plane don't necessarily count as a nap." He mused. "I was, after all, trying to keep my intestines from exiting my body."

Carlos's nose wrinkled.

 _Thanks for that image, Cec._  He thought.

Cecil slipped his glasses from his nose and sat them inside the cup holder with Carlos's phone before he pulled his folded parka from the backseat to use as a pillow against the window. He curled up in the passenger seat as best he could, his back to Carlos, fidgeting for a moment to find a comfortable position.

"Care if I put on the radio?" Carlos asked as his boyfriend let out a contented sigh. "If it bothers you, I'll turn it off."

Cecil waved a hand over his shoulder.

"It's fine." He said. "I'm a heavy sleeper."

Carlos laughed and placed a hand on Cecil's shoulder, eliciting a pleased "hmm" from the radio host as he gave him a gentle squeeze.

"I know." He said. "I love you."

"Love you, too, perfect Carlos." Cecil murmured as he slipped further down the slope towards sleep.

Carlos smiled as he retracted his hand back to the steering wheel and switched on the radio. As Cecil's breaths evened out and he began to snore quietly, Carlos allowed himself to relax as familiar Christmas carols drifted through the car, all the while the butterflies in his stomach reminded him that he would soon be his family once more.

He wasn't sure if the butterflies were from excitement, or nervousness.

He settled on both, smiled, and tried to ignore Cecil's snoring as he turned up the radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Pokemon reference. My boyfriend should be proud. 
> 
> Oh, and... 
> 
> DID YOU HEAR?! DID YOU HEAR?! Carlos is getting a new voice actor, which means...
> 
> MORE CARLOS IN FUTURE EPISODES!!!! YAY!!!!
> 
> This is legit information, confirmed by Jeffery Cranor via his tumblr: http://happierman.tumblr.com/post/69936379508/ch-ch-ch-ch-changes-or-who-is-carlos
> 
> This excites me. To no end. (And the fact that Condos will, in fact, become an actual podcasted episode. That makes me extremely happy too!)
> 
> \-----
> 
> Translations:  
> -Si, estamos en nuestro camino ahora, mamá. Estaremos allí en unas dos horas: "Yes, mama, we're on our way. We'll be there in about two hours."  
> -Si, Mamá, Cecil trajo un abrigo. Lo sabrás cuando lo veas: "Yes, mama, Cecil brought a coat. You'll know it when you see it."  
> -Te quiero, también, Mamá. Nos vemos pronto: "I love you, too, mama. See you soon."


	5. Cecil Got Run Over by the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecil discovers snow, and the family is met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: While looking through my handy-dandy and extremely battered baby naming book (I've had it since I was in seventh grade) for names for Carmen's daughter, I happened upon Carlos and Cecil, and was surprised by their apparent meanings!  
> Carlos is Spanish for "manly; sensual." (I find this HIGHLY apropos, considering! Haha!)  
> Cecil is Latin for "unseeing; hard-headed; blind." (I find that one highly wrong, considering how Cecil seems to see and know everything that goes on around him! He is a bit hard-headed, I suppose...)
> 
> Anyway! Thought I'd share that!
> 
> Also, for those of you (like me) that don't speak Spanish fluently and are good friends with Google Translate, I left translations at the end of the chapter. :) 
> 
> Also, Carmen is my new favorite person ever. She is the kind of mother I want to be one day! You'll find out more later. :) And her little daughter is most definitely what I foresee my own child being. Most definitely. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

“Cecil.” There was a warm hand on Cecil’s shoulder, gently rousing him from sleep. Bright lights shone behind his eyelids, and Cecil squeezed his eyes tightly together, as though doing so would allow him to fall back into the slumber he had been enjoying.

“Cecil.” Carlos whispered, shaking Cecil’s shoulder again. “Cecil, wake up.”

Cecil groaned and swatted at Carlos’s hand.

“ _Por favor, querido._ ” Carlos said, shaking harder.

Cecil, realizing acutely that his neck hurt, sighed deeply as he sat up in the seat and stretched, his hands grazing the roof of the car as he did so. His back popped in at least four places, and he squinted against the fluorescent lights overhead as his hazy gaze fell on his boyfriend, his foggy mind still heavy with sleep. He reached out and fumbled around in the cup holder until his fingers grazed the plastic frames of his glasses.

Upon putting them on, there were four things Cecil became aware of immediately.

First, the car was parked and no longer running under an overhang that acted as the source for the bright lights around them.

Second, they were most definitely at a gas station, the name of which Cecil had never heard before. They were parked next to what Cecil realized was pump number four, and the digital screens above the buttons displayed the price ($3.49).

Third, Carlos was smiling at him from the driver’s seat as he pulled his arms into his black blazer coat, pulling out a pair of black felt gloves as he slipped his cell phone into one of the pockets.

And fourth, it was _snowing._

“Carlos,” Cecil breathed. “It’s snowing!”

Carlos chuckled as he tugged the gloves over his wrists. “I told you.”

Cecil’s nose pressed against the window in awe, his warm breath fogging the chilled glass of the window as he watched the snowflakes elegantly dance from the dark clouds above towards the earth below, where they rested in laden heaps at the edges of the parking lot. Carlos’s heart thudded in his chest fondly at the sight, warmth creeping from the roots of his hair to his toes as he watched his boyfriend – a grown man of thirty two – gaze in a childlike wonder at the snow outside.

“I have to get some gas.” He said after a moment, digging through the front pocket of his backpack for a dark green cap, which he situated on his head over his ears snugly. “Otherwise we’ll be pushing the car the rest of the way to Mamá and Dad’s!”

Cecil turned his attention away from the snow outside and back to Carlos. “How far out are we?”

“About thirty more minutes or so.” Carlos said as he extracted a blue scarf from the backpack as well. “But I’m hovering on E, and I don’t want to risk it.”

Cecil nodded, and Carlos lent across the center console to give him a quick peck on the cheek before he opened the door and climbed out. Cecil returned his attention to the snow, and felt the buzzing excitement underneath his skin. He wasn’t even remotely embarrassed by his fascination.

After a few more minutes, Cecil heard Carlos recapping the gas tank, and watched as he walked towards the gas station building. He emerged two minutes later grinning, a plastic bag swinging from his hand.

He opened Cecil’s door, and a gush of frigid air hit Cecil like a slap in the face. Carlos reached into the bag and handed Cecil a pair of purple felt gloves, not dissimilar from the ones Carlos wore, and unwound his scarf, slinging it around Cecil’s neck.

“Here.” He said. “We have a few minutes. Want to experience snow that won’t burn you if you touch it?”

“Yes!” Cecil leapt to his feet, wobbling slightly as he came to the very sudden realization that both of his legs were asleep. Luckily Carlos was there, and he grabbed onto the scientist’s shoulder to steady himself, smiling sheepishly at his enthusiasm. Carlos’s brown eyes were warm and affectionate as he shook his head, but said nothing.

Cecil quickly bustled himself into his parka, zipping it up as he did so, and flipped the hood up over his head. He closed the door behind him and quickly followed Carlos towards the snow. He paused at the edge of it, suddenly nervous.

Carlos, sensing his nervousness, bent down and picked some of the snow up, forming it into a ball and holding it out to Cecil, who hesitantly reached for it, vividly remembering the orange snow that had left him with second degree burns on his palms for two weeks.

The snow was cold and wet as he held it in his hands, and he marveled at the way it molded to his whim, like clay on a spinning wheel. He molded it into a square, and held it up to Carlos, who threw his head back and laughed, grinning proudly at his creation as the melted bits of snow began to seep through the thin fabric of his gloves.

Cecil, still holding the snow cube, slowly stepped forward and lowered his shoe into the snow, which gave a satisfying crunch as he did so, and walked out a few more steps. The snow was considerably deep, coming to his shins, and he suddenly wished he had worn the boots Carlos had bought for him the day he had announced the purchase of their tickets, but they were snugly nestled between his socks and pajamas in his suitcase in the car.

Cecil was so engrossed in the snow around him that he completely missed the snowball as it sailed through the air and struck him in the arm. He whirled around, startled, blinking in confusion as another snowball came his way. Cecil quickly raised his hand and caught it before it could strike him in the head, thankful that his years in the Night Vale Boy Scouts had made him incredibly skilled in hand-eye coordination. He looked towards his assailant to find that it was his very own scientist, a wide smile stretched across his face as he raised his hand to send another snowball hurtling.

“Carlos!” Cecil protested. “Why did you do that?!”

Carlos lowered his arm and walked forward. “It’s a snowball fight.” He said.

“Couldn’t that be dangerous?!” Cecil asked as he dropped the snowball at his feet, suddenly aware that the snow was beginning to seep into his socks, and he shivered.

“Not unless you hurl an iceball or a snowball with a rock in it.” Carlos said. “Both of which I have had thrown at me, and it’s not pleasant.”

Cecil brushed the snow from his sleeve. “I don’t understand the premise.” He said. “Why would you want to create weapons and warfare out of something so lovely?”

Carlos shrugged. “It’s supposed to be fun.” He explained. “You’re supposed to build forts and barricades and throw snowballs at each other until someone concedes defeat.”

The radio host shook his head. “That makes no sense, dearest Carlos.” He said.

Carlos sighed. “Never mind, then.”

At that moment, Cecil raised his arm and the snow cube at his side suddenly found itself embedded in Carlos’s perfect hair, his cap completely knocked from his head. Cecil threw his head back and laughed, heartily, as Carlos brought a hand to his now wet hair, blinking in confusion at his boyfriend.

“That, my perfectly imperfect Carlos, is revenge for this morning’s tickling.” Cecil said as he walked over to the befuddled scientist, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as he handed him his lost cap.

Carlos laughed. “I guess I deserve that.”

Cecil nodded. “Maybe.” He said. “All’s fair in love and war, yes?”

Carlos pulled his boyfriend forward and kissed his forehead. “Alright, you win this round.” He said. “But just you wait until my nephews decide to get in on it! Then you just might have a _real_ war on your hands!”

Cecil slipped his hand into Carlos’s. “As long as you’re on my team, I believe we can take them.” He said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Carlos rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re nine. And they’re little Mongols. They are incredibly skilled in the art of snow warfare.” He shuddered, clearly remembering a Christmas when the twins were six and they had ambushed Carlos and Carmen on their way inside after grocery shopping. It had taken Carlos _hours_ to warm up, and three days for his sweater to completely air dry.

The two walked hand-in-hand back to the car, where they both slipped inside and cranked up the heat as high as it would go. Cecil removed his wet gloves and returned Carlos’s scarf.

“So are you ready to meet my family?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence as they started back down the road.

Cecil smiled and nodded. “Yes!” He said enthusiastically.

Carlos smiled. “Good, because I think they’re pretty excited to meet you too.”

“Even your father?” Cecil couldn’t help but ask. While he was extremely excited to meet his beloved Carlos’s family, he couldn’t help but feel just slightly anxious at the inevitable shaking of the hands with his homophobic father.

“Even Dad.” Carlos confirmed. He fell silent for a moment before he reached out and squeezed Cecil’s knee. “He’s trying, Cecil.”

Cecil didn’t say anything, instead opting to change the subject.

“So, because I know that small talk is essential to the introduction process, what is it that your parents and your siblings do?”

“Well, my dad was a lawyer before he retired.” Carlos said. “He worked mostly with immigration services, seeing as he and my mother were immigrants before becoming citizens back in the seventies. My mother stayed home with us growing up, but before that she worked as a library assistant.”

Cecil’s eyes widened, and Carlos saw him open his mouth to speak before he cut him off.

“ _No,_ not like that.” He said. “Librarians outside of Night Vale aren’t vicious man-eating monsters bent on ensuring the likelihood of timely book returns. They’re normal people, like you and me.”

 _Well…if Cecil qualifies as ‘normal’…_ He thought as an afterthought.

Cecil nodded after a moment, but his purple eyes remained wide. “What about your siblings?”

“Andre is an accountant, and Carmen is a nurse.” Carlos explained. “Andre works in New York City, and Carmen still lives in town, so she’s close to my parents, and she works at the local hospital.”

“And your grandmother?”

Carlos laughed. “Certified cookie baker and teller of stories.” He said. “I think she’ll like you. You both have a way with words.”

Cecil smiled at that, the thought of him and Carlos’s abuela swapping tales pleasing.

“Andre’s wife Ashley is an ultrasound tech, and she’s currently pregnant with their third child, though they won’t tell anybody if it’s a girl or a boy.”

“Why not?”

Carlos shrugged. “Ashley wants to be surprised.” He said.

“There is nothing wrong with a pleasant surprise now and again, Carlos.” Cecil said.

“I agree, but dammit, I’m not that patient.” Carlos grinned a somewhat crooked grin, and Cecil felt his stomach do a somersault. “Anyway, their twins are Donovan and Cody. Carmen has a little girl, Gracie. She’s five.”

“Children are fascinating at that age, wouldn’t you agree?” Cecil said as he smiled.

“More like absolutely terrifying. Some of the stuff those three can get into…” Carlos shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

Cecil was quiet again for a moment. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

“What, the kids?” Carlos turned his head to look at his boyfriend, who nodded sheepishly. “They’ll _love_ you! Kids seem to flock to you like you’re made of candy or something. Why else would those mute kids stick around the booth so much?”

Carlos found it mildly interesting that Cecil, his confident, exuberant boyfriend, was not even remotely worried about whether or not the adults of his family would like him, but he was actually moderately concerned with whether or not the kids would be.

 _Kids can be cruel,_ he reminded himself. _Especially to those who are different._

And Cecil, his Cecil, with his wiggling, sentient tattoo sleeves, vivid purple eyes, eccentric personality, and a fashion sense that fell somewhere between the Twilight Zone at its worst and Lady Gaga at its best was indeed the epitome of different.

 Cecil gave a small smile, and seemed to relax. Carlos, unsure of what else to say, instead reached out and turned on the radio.

“We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” He promised. “And they’re going to love you, because I do.” He said, a hand finding its way into Cecil’s blond hair. “I promise.”

“On science?” Cecil asked.

Carlos chuckled. “On science.”

 

...oOo...

 

Fifteen minutes, seventeen seconds later, Carlos pulled the car onto a stretch of dark road, lit only by the occasional street lamp and the houses that were decorated with lights. Cecil felt the anticipation flutter in his stomach like a hive of bees, and he could barely keep himself from bouncing in his seat as Carlos finally turned into a long driveway, creeping towards a well lit house at the top of a small hill. Cars lined the driveway as they neared, and a dark figure could be seen standing atop a tall ladder, stringing twinkling colored Christmas lights across the gutters of the house. Carlos put the car in park and looked at Cecil, grabbing his hand, his smile luminous but undertoned with worry.

“I love you.” He said, quickly pressing a kiss to Cecil’s forehead. “Ready?”

Cecil stole a kiss across Carlos’s jaw. “I’ve been ready, dear Carlos.”

Carlos squeezed his hand before he let go and reached for the door handle, stepping out into the cool winter air, Cecil not far behind.

No sooner had he shut the door to the driver’s seat and reached for the back did Carlos suddenly find himself grabbed from behind, an arm around his neck and a fist buried in his hair as knuckles dug into his scalp. Carlos gave an indignant yelp as his footing stumbled.

“Andre!” He gasped, hands coming up to fight off his brother’s attack. “Andre, I can’t breathe!”

“Well if it isn’t my little brother!” Andre laughed. “Long time, no see, _hermano_!”

Carlos managed to wrestle himself out of his brother’s grip, glaring at him for a moment before breaking out into a huge grin.

“A _noogie?!”_ He demanded. “Really?! How old are you, twelve?!”

Andre laughed. “At heart.” He said, slapping his brother on the back and grabbing him into a hug. “Good to see you!”

“You too.” Carlos said, returning his brother’s embrace. They pulled apart, and Carlos gestured to Cecil, who had walked around the car, eager to help Carlos had the need arisen. “Andre, this is Cecil. Cecil, this is my older brother, Andre.”

“Greetings!” Cecil extended his hand towards Carlos’s brother, who grabbed his hand in a firm shake.

“Good to finally meet the ever elusive boyfriend of my little bro!” Andre said, his smile warm and friendly. “I thought we were never going to get a look at you!”

 Even in the dull light of the lights from the front porch and strings hanging from the gutters, it was easy to see that Andre shared in his brother’s good looks. Andre was taller than Carlos by a good three to four inches, and his hair, the same black curls as Carlos without the grey streaks at the temples, was shorter, and Cecil was suddenly reminded of the treacherous barber Telly and the haircut he had bestowed upon his perfect Carlos’s perfect hair over a year before. Andre had the same dark, mocha colored skin as Carlos, and the same brown eyes.

“To be fair, Carlos _is_ a busy man.” Cecil said, coming to his boyfriend’s defense, albeit weakly. “You know, with science and all.”

Andre snorted and let go of Cecil’s hand. “Tell me about it.” He said. “You couldn’t pry that kid away from his books and beakers for more than ten minutes at a time growing up. He’s always been a bit of a nerd, haven’t you, Carlito?”

“Carlito?” Cecil raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance at Carlos, who had flushed red across his cheeks in embarrassment.

“It was what Abuela always called me growing up.” Carlos explained. He quickly dropped the subject, grabbing at the handle of the back door and opening it. “Did you get your bags, Cec?”

Cecil nodded, and walked around to the other side of the car, grasping the handle to his plum colored bag tightly.

“Need any help?” Andre offered.

“No, this is all we brought.” Carlos said as he hefted his bag from the seat and sat it on the cement. He looked towards the house. “Everyone else inside?”

Andre nodded. “Yeah, Mamá just put the enchiladas in to cook, and Carmen’s trying to keep the kids entertained. The boys haven’t stopped asking when you were going to be here all day. They’ve missed their Tío Carlos.”

Carlos grinned. “That’s because I spoil them rotten.”

“No, it’s because you indulge in their ingenious evil little plots.” Andre countered as the three of them walked towards the front steps. “Like that time you helped them build that giant domino effect thing around the house that ended up setting the curtains on fire.”

“It’s called a Rube Goldberg Chain Reaction Sequence, and those curtains only smoked, and you know it! I put it out before it could actually catch fire!”

“Mmmhm, and Mamá was just as pissed as she would have been had they actually been set ablaze.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Andre reached for the doorknob, turning to glance at Cecil. “I hope you’re prepared for this.” He said, trying to sound ominous. “You think my little brother is weird, you’re in for it.”

“You have _no_ idea where he grew up!” Carlos laughed as he reached for Cecil’s hand. “Weird doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it!”

“Way to ruin it, _hermano._ ” Andre muttered as he opened the door. He raised his hand to his mouth, and yelled, “ _Familio, Carlos y Cecil está aquí!”_

There was a flurry of excitement as several voices and bodies flooded into the foyer at once, all of whom headed for Carlos and Cecil, who was still halfway out the door and partially hidden behind the slightly taller frame of his boyfriend. Rapid Spanish floated through the air eagerly like clouds, and Cecil felt his ears glow slightly pink in embarrassment at his inability to understand it.

“Carlito!” A small, plump woman with long salt-and-pepper braided hair pushed her way forward. She wrapped her arms around Carlos’s neck as he bent down to embrace her, lifting her off of her feet. “Ah, Carlito, _es tan bueno tenerte en casa por fin_!”

“Hola, Mamá,” Carlos said warmly. “ _Yo también te extrañé._ ”

He sat her back down on the ground, and she pulled away, patting him affectionately on the cheek. She peered around him and saw Cecil, and she smiled as she pushed past Carlos to grasp Cecil’s hands in her own.

“You must be Cecil!” She said in accented English. Cecil liked the way she pronounced his name like _Cee-sill_ instead of the usual _Cee-sull._ “Carlos has told us so much! I’m Maria, Carlos’s mamá.”

“Nice to meet you!” Cecil said, and he smiled widely. Maria had Carlos’s loving brown eyes and friendly disposition, and Cecil liked her _instantly._ “Carlos has had many wonderful things to say of you as well.”

“ _Tal encantador!_ ” Maria said, nudging Carlos. “ _Y no mal parecido, tampoco!_ ”

Carlos blushed, and Cecil made a mental not to ask him what she’d said later as a very pregnant red haired woman with shining green eyes stepped forward and held out her hand.

“I’m Ashley, Andre’s wife.” She said. “So glad you could make it, Cecil.”

“Thank you, Ashley. I’m glad that I could!”

“Carmen wasn’t kidding when she said you have an amazing voice!” Ashley said as she dropped her hand back to her bulging stomach, rubbing it absentmindedly. “It’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Cecil said as Ashley smiled at him. “So I’ve heard.”

A petite woman, no taller than about five foot one, with wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Cecil’s midsection, as she only came to the middle of his chest.

“Hi! I’m Carmen. We spoke earlier.” She said as she pulled away slightly. “Good to _finally_ meet you!”

She cast a scowl over her shoulder at Carlos, who rubbed the back of his neck as he grinned a crooked, embarrassed grin, blushing furiously.

Cecil laughed and returned her embrace.

“Hello again, Carmen. It’s good to finally put a face to the name and voice!”

Carmen smiled. “You too!” She said. There was a small crash from the other room, followed by a shrill young girl’s voice, and she winced. “And that would be my heathen. You’ll meet her soon enough. Please excuse me.”

She turned away and walked back into the other room. “Gracie, what have I told you about beating up the boys?!”

Cecil chuckled as he turned his attention towards the next in line, a tall, broad shouldered man with Carmen’s blue eyes, and shortly cropped black hair, with thick eyebrows, bushy mustache, and a neatly trimmed facial hair. His face was set in a straight line, showing none of the warmth and welcome that the rest of the family had, and Cecil realized with a start that this must be Carlos’s father.

“Name’s José.” He said, his voice gruff. “Nice to meet you.”

Cecil gave the man a short nod as he held out his hand towards Carlos’s father, who eyed it for a split second before taking it, as though he were unsure about touching the radio host, despite seeing the rest of his family doing so.

“Good to meet you, José.” Cecil said. “I’m Cecil.”

“I gathered.” José said as he pulled his hand away.

Thankfully, Maria, sensing the tension, stepped in, still smiling.

“Why don’t you go put your things away, Carlos?” She said to her son. “You and Cecil will be staying in your old room.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Carlos said, nodding. He looked at Cecil. “It’s just down the hall. Follow me.”

He led him into the other room, which turned out to be the living room, a warm fireplace dancing merrily in the center of the far wall, where lights had been draped across the mantle. Pictures adorned the walls and the top of a rather old piano in the corner, and Cecil grinned as he realized that some of them were most likely of Carlos, and knew that these would be worth investigating later.

However, as soon as they emerged in the room, Carlos was suddenly tackled by two small blurs, both of whom cried “ _Tío Carlos!!_ ” as they brought the scientist to the floor.

Carlos laughed as he ruffled the two heads of dark red hair that sat square in the middle his chest.

“Tío Carlos, we missed you!” One of the boys said, and Cecil realized with a start that they were identical, save for a faint scar on one of the boy’s chins. “We’ve been waiting _all day_ for you to get here!”

“Me too! Me too!” Cried another voice, and a little girl with long, curly dark hair and brown eyes in a purple princess dress bound forward, jumping to the pile on top of Carlos delightedly. She threw her small arms around Carlos’s neck as he struggled to sit up with the three children on top of him. “I even beat the boys in a game of checkers waiting for you!”

“Nuh uh, she _cheated_!” The boy with the scar on his chin cried indignantly. “She stole all of our pieces and hid them under Max’s bed!”

Carlos chuckled. “I’d say she won, then.” He agreed, and the little girl, presumably Gracie, grinned a gap-toothed grin. “Now, as much as I love you guys, I can’t breathe!”

The three children quickly scurried off of their uncle, and Carmen laughed from her place in the corner, where she was attempting to assemble some sort of board game involving various bells and whistles.

“I should have warned you.” She said. “They’ve been pretty excited. If I had to hear “Where’s Tío Carlos?!” one more time, I was going to shave their heads.”

Gracie tugged on Carlos’s coat sleeve as he stood to his feet, brushing himself off. “Tío Carlos, who is that?” She asked in a loud whisper, looking at Cecil.

Carlos bent down and scooped the little girl into his arms.

“Gracie, boys, this is Cecil.” Carlos said, walking over to Cecil, who smiled at the boys as they bashfully hid behind their uncle. “Cecil, these are Andre and Ashley’s boys, Donovan,” he gestured to the boy with the scar on his chin. “And Cody.”

Cecil bent down slightly and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The boys smiled as they politely said hi and shook his hand.

“And this is Carmen’s, Gracie.”

“I like your voice!” Gracie said as she reached out and poked Cecil in the arm. “And your eyes are pretty! Purple’s my favorite!”

“And your dress is lovely!” Cecil said, and Gracie giggled. “Are you a princess?”

Gracie nodded enthusiastically. “I’m supposed to be Rapunzel, but I lost my hair crown and so I just wear the dress!”

“Well I still think you look beautiful, Princess.” Cecil said.

“I like you!” Gracie said as Carlos sat her back on the floor with a chuckle. “You’re cool!” She looked back at Carlos. “Tío Carlos, is he your boyfriend?”

“Yes, he is.” Carlos said, ruffling Gracie’s hair. “So don’t get any ideas about trying to steal him there, Princess.” He winked at Gracie conspiratorially, and Gracie smiled.

“No promises, Tío Carlos!” She said. “He can be one of my knights!”

“I thought _we_ were your knights!” Cody said indignantly.

“You were.” Gracie said smoothly. “But I have demoted you to peasant.”

Carmen burst out laughing. “That’s my girl!” She said proudly. “You tell them!”

“But I don’t want to be a peasant! Peasants don’t get to have sword fights!” Donovan said, crossing his arms. “And they have to work in the fields all day harvesting potatoes!”

The three children momentarily distracted, Carlos grabbed Cecil’s wrist and pulled him towards the hall.

“Quick!” He said. “Before they notice your tattoos!”

Cecil quickly followed his boyfriend down the hall, where Carlos stopped at the second door to the left, opening the door and flipping on the light.

“Well, this is me.” He said as he walked inside, Cecil close behind. “Or, teenage me, at least.”

The walls were painted a deep red color, and posters of Albert Einstein, Nicola Tesla, and a periodic table of elements were tacked up, as well as a bulletin board. A bookcase filled with books and a few board games – one of which, a battered and old box, read Dungeons and Dragons on the side – as well as a few empty beakers and test tube racks stood at the far wall next to an old desk, which was bare save for a few large textbooks and figurines, next to a chest of drawers with picture frames on the top. A bed, covered in a well worn looking blue and green quilt, was at the center of the room to their left, the foot facing the door. Pictures of various paintings and movie stills were taped to the walls as well, and Cecil chuckled as he recognized one of them as Spock from _Star Trek._

“Leonard Nimoy always was one of my favorites.” Carlos said, noticing Cecil’s look. “I tried going as him for Halloween when I was twelve, but got laughed at because I look nothing like him.”

“Why not?” Cecil asked as he hoisted his bag up onto the queen sized bed next to Carlos’s.

Carlos shrugged. “Not exactly white.” He said.

Cecil shook his head. “That shouldn’t have stopped you!” He said. “Your skin is _perfect._ ”

Carlos smiled. “I know, now. But back then I was pretty self conscious about what other people had to say.”

Cecil’s lips thinned, annoyed. “Children can be cruel, can they not?”

“That they can.” Carlos agreed and he unzipped the bag. “We can put our stuff in the drawers there.” He nodded over his head at the chest of drawers. “They should still be cleared out, unless Mamá is using them to store blankets and pillowcases.”

Cecil nodded, and went to unzip his bag as well when a voice rang out, “Dinner’s ready!” from the other room.

“We can unpack later.” Carlos said, stopping. He took Cecil’s hand. “Come on! I haven’t had Mamá’s enchiladas in a while, and I haven’t eaten since we were at the airport.”

Cecil smiled and kissed Carlos softly. “That bagel you craved wasn’t very filling, then?” He teased.

“It doesn’t hold a candle to Mamá’s cooking!” Carlos said as they walked into the hall. “And believe me, if you thought I was right about those bagels, you’re really in for it now!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dylan Marron is the perfect Perfect Carlos and NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
> 
> Translations: 
> 
> -hermano: "brother"  
> -Familio, Carlos y Cecil está aquí: "Family, Carlos and Cecil are here!"  
> -es tan bueno tenerte en casa por fin: "It's so good to have you home at last!"  
> -Yo también te extrañé: "I missed you too."  
> -Tal encantador!: "What a charmer!"  
> -Y no mal parecido, tampoco: "And not bad looking, either!"


	6. You're a Mean One, Mr. Ramirez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are enchiladas, cuddles, and Cecil and Jose have a chat. Oh, and Carlos has tattoos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's Christmas was as wonderful and joyous as mine was, and I apologize for not having this chapter up sooner. I've been working on it in my fleeting moments of spare time over the past few days, and it's finally finished. 
> 
> This chapter is mostly filler, with some family dynamics thrown in for good measure, as well as some Cecilos cuddles, Carmen and Cecil bonding, tattoos, and awkward chitchats. But, it's important in the way that Cecil and Jose have a little one-on-one, and we kind of get to know Jose a little better in terms of character (spoiler: he's a grumpy gills). 
> 
> Oh, and I gave Carlos tattoos, because I really like the headcanon that he has science-y/geeky tattoos. Love it. 
> 
> Carry on! :D The next chapter is in the works, and it will be fabulous. :)

Maria's enchiladas were very quickly becoming Cecil's favorite food  _ever._ Every bite was as delightful as the last, the cheese was perfectly stringy without being scalding hot, and the peppers she had added on top added a bit of spice. It wasn't hard to see where Carlos had gotten his cooking skills from.

The adults had crowded themselves around the smallish oval shaped table in the dining room off to the left of the kitchen, while the kids had been given the coffee table in the living room to eat at. Several side dishes had been placed along the middle, including mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli (which Donovan and Cody refused to touch, though Gracie had heaped her plate full delightedly), as well as homemade guacamole and some sort of desert involving pink marshmallows and Jell-O that Cecil had never seen before, but reminded him of the Glow Cloud for some odd reason (maybe it was its fluffiness, or perhaps the Glow Cloud had unconsciously instilled in him an apprehension towards marshmallows; Cecil couldn't be entirely sure).

Conversation had started out with asking Carlos how his research was going in Night Vale, and how he had adjusted to life there. Carlos had told everyone of his adventures, though Cecil noted that they had been diluted to exclude the more dangerous and anxiety-provoking bits such as the time the toaster oven in the lab had come to life and tried to eat Carlos and his team of fellow scientists. Cecil allowed this to slide; he could understand Carlos's reasons for leaving parts of Night Vale to himself, though he wasn't sure how well he could hide it for very much longer.

Eventually, however, attention had been turned to Cecil.

"So, Cecil." Andre said as he spooned his second helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Carlos tells us you're a radio host?"

Cecil nodded. "Yes." He replied.

"How long have you been doing that?" Maria asked.

"I've been the Voice of Night Vale for oh, about eight years now? I interned at the station as a teenager, and throughout college. It was prophesized that I would take over as the Voice from the time I was a child."

He noticed that Carlos's parents stopped chewing momentarily as he said the word "prophesized", and he wondered for a moment if he had said the wrong thing.

"Of course, being the Voice was all I ever wanted to do." He added quickly, though smoothly. "I used to carry around an old tape recorder when I was younger and practice my broadcasting."

He saw Carlos wince slightly out the corner of his eye, and he, too, remembered vividly the finding of the cassette tape that had brought so much of his past to light. He was still filling in many of the pieces, but several memories had resurfaced not long after the discovery, including his brother's name (but not his face), and his internship at the station, though several holes remained.

José raised an eyebrow. "Not a very high paying job, is it?" He asked.

Carlos opened his mouth to defend Cecil, but Cecil beat him to it with a smile and a wave of his hand.

"I'm in it for the journalism, not the glamour." He said. "Radio is a very specific medium, and I enjoy it."

"Well, you know what they say!" Carmen piped as she sat down her glass of water. "Find a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life!"

José shook his head, but he said nothing more as he continued on eating.

"So, Cecil, do you have a family back in Night Vale?" Maria pressed.

A sad smile graced Cecil's features, and he felt his heart twinge slightly.

"No," he said. "I don't have any family in Night Vale, save for the odd cousin and my aunt Valerie that I get a card from every Street Cleaning Day."

"What about your parents?" Ashley quipped. "Any siblings?"

Again the knot returned to the back of Cecil's throat, and he swallowed.

"My mother…disappeared when I was fifteen. My brother, too. I…I don't know what became of them."

" _Que triste!"_ Maria said, shaking her head.

"So they just  _left_ you?" Carmen asked, her blue eyes wide. "To fend for yourself? At  _fifteen_?!"

Cecil shrugged. "I suppose." He said. "Of course, there's always the possibility that they were kidnapped, or taken by the Sheriff's Secret Police, or corporeally absorbed into the void. But who can tell, really? Besides," He dabbed at his sleeve with his napkin. "Night Vale is small, and everyone knows one another. I was always surrounded by people that cared for me. Night Vale is my family."

 _And Carlos, now._ He added to himself, casting a glance at José uneasily.

Carmen shook her head. "It's absolutely absurd that they  _just left you_!" She said. She lent across the table and winked. "Good thing you've got us now, then."

Cecil smiled, the knotted pit in his stomach replaced with warmth, as though a hole were being filled. Murmurs of agreement sounded from around the table, and Cecil felt Carlos squeeze his knee beneath the table.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, and Cecil stood to help Carmen with the dishes. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and he saw José staring at his tattoos from the corner of his eye, seemingly disapprovingly. Cecil was not ashamed of his tattoos; in fact, he was extremely fond of them and the symbiotic relationship they had, but suddenly he found himself incredibly self conscious about the intricate tentacles and occasional eye, and he was thankful that they hadn't moved so much as a nanometer since passing over the Night Vale city limits. The last thing he wanted was Carlos's father – who had thus far not seemed particularly friendly – to think he was dangerous, and anomalous in any way.

Carmen, however, caught wind of her father's stares, and nodded in approval as she surveyed the tattoos.

"Gnarly tattoos!" She said as Cecil handed her a plate from the soapy water to dry and place on the rack. "Are they octopus tentacles?"

"Cthulu, actually." Cecil said, though it was only partially the truth; in reality, he wasn't entirely sure  _what_ his tattoos were, exactly, only that they were sentient and were sometimes proned to hissy fits during which they refused to stop tickling him until he complied to their demands, which was usually a bubble bath with lavender oil and a few Epsom salts for flavor. "I got them when I was fifteen, shortly after my mother and brother…left."

"I think they're awesome." Carmen said, nodding again. "I have angel wings on my shoulder blades, and a cross on my left foot. Are they just sleeves?"

Cecil shook his head. "They extend onto my shoulders and back." He said.

"Even more awesome." Carmen concluded. She threw her head slightly over her shoulder at her father, who had retreated into the living room with the rest of the family and was smiling as he conversed with Carlos. "Don't let him bother you. He's a bit of a stickler. He freaked out the day I came home with the cross on my foot when I was seventeen. Nearly blew a gasket. Thought he was going to kill me right then and there. I don't think Carlos has ever told him about his."

Cecil smiled briefly, his memory fleeting to the tattoo that adorned Carlos's left shoulderblade: a complex line of amino acids that literally translated to "I am starstuff," as well as a more simple one above Carlos's right hip that was the molecular model of serotonin. He swallowed. "He doesn't seem to care for me much." He admitted quietly.

"Nah, it's not that." Carmen said. "I've only known you a grand total of around two hours and I can honestly say you're quickly becoming one of my favorite people, and I can be a bit picky sometimes. Dad's just a product of his time is all; he's hard to please, and honestly, he's never been exactly…comfortable with Carlos being into other men."

"Carlos warned me." Cecil said, nodding. "At the airport after a rather unfortunate incident involving a group of unruly teenagers and rather raunchy language that I'm sure their mothers would be absolutely appalled by."

Carmen's nose wrinkled, and she took the forks Cecil handed her and set them inside a cup to dry.

"Kids suck sometimes." She said. "But especially those of the teenage breed."

Cecil smiled. "I suppose so."

"Anyway, don't let Dad get you down!" She continued. "It's not that he doesn't  _like_ you, it's just that he isn't quite sure what to make of you yet. And quite frankly, he's always been a bit protective of Carlos, even though I was the baby and the only girl. I think he just worries about Carlos a bit more than me or Andre." She shrugged.

"Why is that?"

"Well, it's like I said, kids suck. Carlos was made fun of as a teenager quite a bit for being gay, and I think that scared Dad a bit. No one wants their kid to be made into a victim, you know?"

Cecil nodded, and then he grinned. "I don't believe you'll ever have that problem with Gracie."

Carmen laughed. "Are you kidding me?! That child is an evil genius. I don't worry about her at all. I pity the little idiot that gets on her bad side. She's got too much of me in her." She smiled proudly before she shook her head and patted Cecil on the arm. "Anyway, don't let Dad bother you. He'll come around."

"I certainly hope so." Cecil concluded as he finished with the last dish and dried off his hands, rolling his sleeves back down.

"Anyway, come on. I think the kids want to watch Rudolph!" Carmen said as she waved her hand, walking towards the living room. "And I think that calls for some caroling."

 

...oOo...

Later that night, after several rounds of singing carols that Cecil had learned rather quickly and a quick recording on his tape recorder recounting the days adventures for Dana, he found himself snuggled into a cozy cocoon of blankets – four, to be precise – in the bed in Carlos's old room, waiting for his boyfriend to return from the bathroom down the hall, where he was brushing his teeth. Carlos had lent him a pair of his sweatpants and one of his old flannels to wear when Cecil's usual silk pajamas proved to be too thin for the Upstate New York chill, despite the mountain of blankets Carlos had provided him with. The flannel smelled faintly of Carlos's cologne, and Cecil smiled as he closed his eyes and gave a contented sigh.

A few minutes later, the door to the room clicked closed, and the bed shifted as Carlos climbed under the covers, putting his arms around Cecil and pulling him close, kissing the back of his neck as he nuzzled his nose into Cecil's white-blond hair. Cecil gave a pleased "hmm" as he pressed against his boyfriend, relishing in the warm feeling of his body pressed against his back and the arms holding him close.

"Well, you survived not only flying but also meeting my family." Carlos said as their legs intertwined. "All in all, I'd consider this day a success."

"Hmm." Cecil agreed. "Me, too. Your family is wonderful."

"Told you they'd love you." Carlos gave his boyfriend a gentle nudge against Cecil's shoulder with his head. "The kids especially."

"The kids are lovely." Cecil smiled. "Especially little Gracie. She has a bright future ahead of her."

Carlos chuckled. "I agree. She's intelligent, that's for sure."

They were silent for a moment, relishing in the moment together, snuggled close, their breathing slowly evening out.

After Carlos let out a sigh and buried his face in the nape of Cecil's neck, signifying he wasn't far from sleep, Cecil finally spoke.

"Carlos?" He whispered in the dark.

"Hm?" Carlos grunted softly in response.

"I don't think your father likes me all that well."

Carlos sighed, his breath tickling Cecil's ears.

"It'll be alright." Carlos said sleepily. "I promise he'll come around."

Cecil turned over so that he was face to face with Carlos, who blinked at him blearily in the dark, the only light coming from the string of lights around the gutters outside through the blinds.

"He didn't have much to say to me today, and he seemed rather quick to judge my choice of careers."

"He's hard to please, Cec." Carlos said as he pressed a kiss to the skin between Cecil's eyebrows. "Bit of a pessimist, too."

"That's what Carmen said when we were washing dishes, but…" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "I'm rather concerned about this, Carlos."

"Don't be." Carlos whispered. "I told you he's uncomfortable talking about my being gay, and with you here it's hard to just ignore it like he has for so long. But he'll come around, eventually. I promise on science."

Cecil smiled, and pressed his forehead to Carlos's.

"I love you." He said.

"Love you, too, Cec." Carlos mumbled as his eyelids fluttered shut. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's a new day."

Cecil yawned, and found that he was unable to argue the point any longer, not when he was so warm with Carlos there to keep out the winter chill. So instead he cuddled closer to the scientist, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his head under Carlos's chin.

"Goodnight, my Carlos." He whispered, pressing a kiss to Carlos's collarbone as his boyfriend drifted to sleep. "Goodnight."

 

...oOo...

Early the next morning, Cecil awoke to the sound of his phone buzzing on the bedside table beside him. Groggily he reached a hand out from underneath the warm nest of blankets into the considerably chillier air of Carlos's childhood bedroom and grabbed the vibrating piece of technology, bringing it close to his face to see without his glasses, which lay neatly folded next to Carlos's on the table.

He was met with a text from Dana, which turned out to be a link to a cute cat video on YouTube. Cecil groaned and sat the phone back down, remembering that time didn't work in Night Vale as it did outside its borders, and he wondered, vaguely, what time it was there.

He yawned as he sat up in the bed and stretched out his arms. He glanced down at the still sleeping form of Carlos in the bed next to him. Carlos had flipped onto his stomach sometime during the night, one arm slung lazily over Cecil. Cecil smiled softly as he reached out a hand to caress the curls of hair that fell across the scientist's face. Carlos looked so much younger than his thirty years when he slept, Cecil mused. Much too young to be graying at the temples, no matter how dignified it made him appear.

Very carefully, Cecil extracted himself from the cozy cocoon, and set his feet down on the cool plush carpet, noticing that his left sock was missing, and he wondered if Carlos's parents had Sock Trolls, too. He spied it dangling out from underneath one of the blankets at the foot, and he snatched it, quickly putting his foot back inside before tiptoeing to the door.

He padded quietly down the hall towards the kitchen, where he had spied a coffee maker the night before, and prayed that Carlos's parents kept a steady stock of coffee on hand. He ran a hand through his mussed blond hair and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

As he emerged into the kitchen, he was slightly taken aback to find that another person was not only awake, but had also beat him to the coffee maker at the counter. It took him a few moments to realize it was José.

José gave him a nod and raised his coffee mug slightly in greeting.

"Morning." He said.

"Good morning." Cecil replied, suddenly overcome with nervousness. Usually he was so composed, so able to overcome this feeling of apprehension, but Carlos's father had found some way to counter his bravado.

"If you want any coffee, help yourself." José said as he finished what was left in his mug and deposited it into the sink, running water into it. "I'm done."

"Thank you, that would be lovely." Cecil said as he made his way over. His eyes flicked towards the drying rack of the sink, hoping to find a spare mug nestled there, but was met without success.

José must have noticed this, for he reached into a cabinet to the right of Cecil's head and pulled a white mug with the Yankees logo on it and handed it to Cecil.

"Here." He said.

"Thank you." Cecil reached out and took the cup from José, who turned away from him.

José grunted in reply, and Cecil supposed he could take it as a "you're welcome" if ever there were one.

Cecil poured himself a cup from the maker, and easily found the bowl of sugar cubes next to it, and creamer. He added copious amounts of both – Carlos affectionately referred to his sweetening habits as "Sugar Rush in a Cup" – before wrapping his fingers around the mug, inhaling the pleasant aroma before bringing it to his lips.

He eyed José over the rim of the cup, and wondered if he should try small talk with the man. José had sat himself down at the dining table, his legs crossed, a newspaper positioned on his knee. Cecil found himself musing that Carlos shared several mannerisms with his father, especially the way they licked the tips of their fingers before turning the pages, and the way they nodded their heads slightly as they read, as though affirming the author's words and thoughts as valid.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice that José had noticed his thoughtful gaze, and furrowed his eyebrows.

"It's rude to stare." He said gruffly.

"Oh, goodness, I'm sorry!" Cecil sputtered. "I wasn't meaning to! I was lost in thought and I guess I didn't notice!"

José raised an eyebrow. "Bit airheaded, are you boy?"

"Not usually, I promise." Cecil said, unsure whether or not José was being serious, or joking. From the stern line his lips made, Cecil was fairly certain he was being serious.

José gave a small "hmm," eyeing Cecil in a way that made the broadcaster squirm just slightly.

"Night Vale as unusual as you?" He said finally.

Cecil blinked. "Sorry?"

"That town you're from. Is it is as unusual as you?" José repeated.

"Oh. Well, no, Night Vale isn't all that unusual. Not to me, at least, but I grew up there. To someone like you, or Carlos, yes, it is probably as extravagantly different as your world is to me." Cecil said, choosing his words carefully. "Carlos has adjusted quite nicely."

"I can tell." José said tersely, and Cecil wondered if he had said something to offend him.

"He had a hard time, at first." Cecil pressed onwards, hoping to skew the topic more towards something comfortable. "He was convinced everything was malicious, and dangerous, and potentially life-threatening. But then he…" He stopped himself from saying anything about the Tiny City Beneath Lane 5, because he wasn't sure if Carlos had said anything to any of his family about it. "He got used to it all, and I'd say he's grown to like it."

José said nothing for a minute, continuing to eye Cecil.

"I'd say you probably had something to do with that," he said finally. He slowly rose to his feet and shuffled towards the door without another word.

Cecil watched him leave, stricken, unsure how to proceed. He swallowed thickly and glanced down at the coffee mug in his hands, and noticed that it had gone lukewarm.

It was no secret that he wanted José to like him. He was, after all, Carlos's father, and he was just as much a part of Carlos's life as Cecil was. Cecil wanted badly to prove to the man that there was absolutely  _nothing_ wrong with Carlos's homosexuality, and that he loved the scientist more than life.

Sighing, he dumped the last of his coffee into the sink, unwilling to even pop it into the microwave for a few seconds. He found he was suddenly without a need for caffeine.

Instead, he made his way back down the hallway towards Carlos's room, where he found his boyfriend still sleeping peacefully. Cecil quietly walked to the chest of drawers and pulled from it his toiletry bag, and a change of clothes; nothing fancy, just a pair of his well worn purple jeans, an undershirt, and a red sweater Old Woman Josie had knitted for him some years ago with an unassuming cactus with mittens on its two arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to Carlos's forehead before he slipped from the room and headed towards the little bathroom at the end of the hall.

Maybe a shower would clear his mind.

 

...oOo...

Fifteen minutes later, Cecil emerged perfectly groomed from the bathroom, his blond hair washed, dried, and styled to his liking, his teeth brushed, smelling faintly like his lilac body wash. He had folded his pajamas neatly and deposited them back in the chest of drawers before passing the still sleeping Carlos to head back into the kitchen.

The pleasant aroma of bacon sizzling wafted from the stove as Cecil entered, and his stomach growled. Maria stood in front of the stove, an apron tied around her waist. She heard Cecil enter, and she turned and smiled at him.

" _Buenos dias,_ Cecil!" She said cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

Cecil nodded. "Marvelously, thank you." He said.

"I hoped that you would." Maria said as she turned back to turn the bacon in the skillet. "You must have been exhausted, after your trip yesterday."

Cecil smiled and flicked his wrist. "Nothing out of the usual." He assured her. "Do you need any help?"

Maria shook her head. "No,  _gracias, cariño._ " She said, and Cecil smiled softly when he recognized the Spanish word for 'sweetheart.' "I'm almost done. But, if you want, could you go and wake Carlos up? Andre and Ashley are already awake and in Carmen's old room, across the hall from the bathroom. They're waking the boys now, and Carmen will be by later with Gracie, and José is out back. He wants to take Andre and Carlos to get a tree today, and I have choir practice at the church at eleven."

"That is quite a day." Cecil commented.

Maria laughed, heartily, and Cecil felt the warmth radiating from her from his place across the room. He was liking Carlos's mother more and more.

" _Sí,_ it's busy." She agreed. "But it's Christmas, and Christmas is always a bit busy." She scooped some of the bacon out of the pan with a spatula and sat it on a plate next to the stove. She glanced over her shoulder. "Is Carlos still hard to get up in the morning?"

Cecil chuckled. "Some days." He admitted, and he realized with a start that Maria was asking him, very openly, about the fact that he and Carlos shared a bed, and he blushed slightly. "He can be rather tetchy in the morning on occasion, but he is usually easy to rouse."

Maria tsked and shook her head.

"He has always had a problem getting enough sleep, that boy." She said. "I used to catch him up at one in the morning on school nights reading by flashlight under his blankets!"

"Nowadays it's usually because he's working on science, but he's getting better at developing a semi-normal sleeping pattern." Cecil defended, deciding against including the fact that time practically did not exist in Night Vale. He fingered the watch on his wrist unconsciously at the thought, smiling softly.

"You are good for him, then." Maria said, and Cecil's blush deepened. "But I have known that since he first mentioned you. Carlos has always been a serious and quiet child, and I have never seen him smile like the way he does when he's with you, not in a long time. He's happier." She sat down her spatula and reached out to take Cecil's hand in hers, squeezing it. "Thank you for that. For making Carlos happy."

Cecil squeezed her hand back, the warmth and kindness from Maria's words spreading to his heart, making it flutter pleasantly against his ribcage. "It's my pleasure." He said. "He makes me happy, too."

Maria smiled again, and patted Cecil's cheek.

"I know." She said. "Now, go and wake him up,  _por favor._  Breakfast is almost ready, and if he wants to go with José, he'll have about an hour to get ready."

Cecil nodded and turned, leaving the kitchen behind him. As he did, he couldn't contain the smile that broke across his face, and he felt lighter than air, unabashedly pleased.

So perhaps José would be harder to convince. At least Maria approved of him.

He did an excited spin as he entered the room, and all but danced to the edge of the bed on Carlos's side, where his foot suddenly got caught in one of the blankets that Carlos had kicked off haphazardly in the night, and he crashed, unceremoniously, onto the bed, right on top of Carlos.

Carlos gave a yelp of surprise as he was jolted awake with a cry of " _mierda!"_ , and he sat up quickly, breathing fast as he reached and grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, slipping them on to gaze at his boyfriend, who lay spread-eagle across the bed. Cecil grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry." He apologized. "I tripped."

Carlos shook his head. "You startled me is all." He said. He leant down and pressed a kiss to Cecil's lips. "Morning."

"Good morning." Cecil said, still grinning. "Your mother asked me to wake you. She's making breakfast."

Carlos removed his glasses and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye before running a hand through his perfect hair, yawning.

"Mells lie 'acon." He said as he yawned.

Cecil sighed. "Carlos, we've been through this. You know I don't speak Yawnese."

"Smells like bacon." Carlos said as the yawn passed.

Cecil nodded. "Indeed. I've no doubt it will taste as delicious as it smells."

"Any bacon is good." His boyfriend said, before considering his previous statement. "Except that unicorn bacon you made me try. That…that wasn't good."

Cecil pouted. "I  _know_ burned it a little, but it wasn't  _that_ terrible!"

"Cecil, it tasted like cardboard wrapped in tinfoil. The texture was like burlap."

"Well of course it did! That's what the flavor of a unicorn is!"

His scientist boyfriend shook his head. "Cecil, I couldn't chew the damn stuff! It is  _not_ digestible!" He pulled back the covers and sat his feet on the floor, standing and helping his boyfriend do the same. "I did some experiments on it. I tried dissolving it in hydrochloric acid and it didn't even fizzle!  _Hydrochloric acid,_ Cecil, wouldn't break down the stuff."

Cecil rolled his eyes endearingly. "Dearest Carlos, food is not meant to be scientifically understood."

"I am inclined to disagree." Carlos said grumpily as he tugged a red sweatshirt over his head before. "But I'm far too tired and hungry to argue about it right now."

Cecil's stomach growled in agreement.

"Oh!" He said, suddenly remembering the other half of Maria's message. "Your father wishes to procure a Christmas tree today and would like you to partake in the festivity. Maria said that you have an hour to get ready."

Carlos groaned and flopped backwards back onto the bed in a heap.

"And watch, I'll bet Andre uses all the hot water." He mumbled into his hands as he ran them over his face.

Cecil flopped down beside him. After a few moments of silence, he said, "I spoke with your father this morning."

Carlos's hands lowered and he propped himself up on his elbow, his brown eyes brimmed with worry at Cecil's low and contemplative tone of voice.

"And…?"

Cecil shrugged, turning his head to look at Carlos. "Not much was said." He said. "Though he  _did_ ask me if Night Vale was as strange as I am, to which I replied absolutely not! I found that question rather…"

"Insulting?"

Cecil shook his head. "Confusing." He concluded. "I explained that Night Vale was as normal to me as this world is to you, and that you'd adapted fairly well. He said he believes I had something to do with that before he walked off."

Carlos sighed, unsure whether he could classify his father's actions as progress or digression.

"He's a bit cantankerous in the morning, I take it?" Cecil asked. "Like a certain scientist is on occasion?"

Carlos laughed and he reached out a hand to pull Cecil closer. "I guess you've got me there. Like father, like son."

Cecil kissed the tip of his nose. "I still love you."

Carlos grinned. "Good to know."

They heaved themselves off of the bed and walked, hand in hand, into the hallway. Cecil smiled coyly as they closed the door behind them.

"Now, about that unicorn bacon…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carlos's tattoos:  
> http://wreaksomehavoc.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/20130226-081331.jpg
> 
> http://www.tattooset.com/tattoo/15220-serotonin-tattoos
> 
> \--------------
> 
> \- que triste: "how sad!"  
> \- buenose dias: "good morning"  
> \- mierda: "shit!" or "holy shit!"


	7. Hark! The Gingerbread Explode!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecil cannot bake, and the kids give him a run for his money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that it took me forever to get this chapter up! I hope my making it super long makes up for it! (Seriously, though, it's 14 pages long in Word, single space, size 12 Times New Roman. I'm not kidding. This chapter took FOREVER, much like Wednesday.) I've been snowed in the last two days (14 inches of snow with windchills down to -42 degrees. WISH I WAS KIDDING, guys; I'm freezing to death! Damn Michigan!) and my classes were cancelled, so yay, writing time!
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed the new episode of Night Vale we got as a lovely New Year's present!  
> I was thrilled to find out that by best friend (who helped me write this chapter and outline the climax, which will occur in the next chapter; she's also a chemist and helped me get the descriptions of the gingerbread mishap down correctly) is a Night Vale fan, so much of our free time while she was visiting for six days was spent listening to podcasts! I got her up to First Date, and we both squeed like the fangirls we are at the Cecilos adorable-ness. :) Twas fun!
> 
> Anyway, enough about me! Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (Also, if I may suggest a song to listen to while reading this, listen to SHINee's "Why So Serious." It was the only thing that got me pumped enough to write this!)

An hour later, after a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and homemade biscuits, Carlos made a mad dash into the bathroom to grab a shower before he, José, and Andre left for Christmas tree hunting, almost forgetting to comb his hair and put on his left sock in his rush had Cecil not reminded him that any socks left unattended could fall victim to the sock trolls. Carlos didn’t have time to explain that sock trolls didn’t exist anywhere outside of Night Vale before he gave Cecil a kiss and stumbled out the door behind his father and brother. Cecil waved from the front porch, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, before retreating back into the warmth of the home.

Cecil had just finished his cup of coffee and had washed the mug when the front door opened, and Carmen’s voice called out a hello.

“In the kitchen!” Cecil called out, drying his hands on a towel hanging from the stove door’s handle.

A moment later, Gracie came bounding into the kitchen and threw her arms around Cecil’s legs.

“Ceesaw!” She said. “You’re still here!”

Cecil chuckled at the child’s pronunciation of his name as he patted her on the head. Carmen came into the room, a smile on her face as she hung her coat from the hook next to the door.

“I can’t seem to get it through that thick skull of hers that your name is not a piece of playground equipment, but she’s adamant in her conviction.” She said, shaking her head.

“I have been called many names in my life, but I do not believe hers is the absolute worst.” Cecil said with a grin.

At that moment, what appeared to be a large, fluffy bear came padding into the room. It surveyed the room for a moment before it made a beeline for Cecil, sauntering up to him as Gracie let go and placed its enormous paws on his shoulders before covering his face with slobber. Cecil gave a yelp of surprise and pressed his palms against the chest of the beast as it continued to try and consume his face.

“Max, no!” Carmen said as she rushed to his aid, grabbing the creature by the red collar around its neck, pulling it off of Cecil, who stood stock still, unsure how to react. “Bad dog!”

Cecil reached for the towel on the stove, wiping his face with it.

“I am _so sorry_!” Carmen said. “He’s usually doesn’t do that…I’d introduce the two of you, but I think he’s already done that. This is my dog, Max. Max, this is Cecil, Carlos’s boyfriend. You’re not to eat him.”

“ _Dog?!_ ” He demanded as Carmen commanded the beast to sit. “That is most certainly _not a dog_!” He said.

“Yes he is!” Gracie piped. “He’s a Newfie!”

“Newfoundland.” Carmen confirmed. “He looks imposing but he’s really just a big teddy bear, aren’t you boy?” She gave the dog a pat on the head, and he wagged his tail in response.

Cecil wiped the last bit of drool from his face and eyed the dog suspiciously while he rinsed out the slobber-soaked towel in the sink.

“Are you absolutely certain? Because in my experience, teddy bears can be quite the formidable opponent, not to mention intrusions of privacy.”

Carmen laughed. “I promise, he’s friendly. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Cecil tentatively reached out a hand, palm out so as not to invoke the creature, and allowed Max to sniff at it. After a second, Max’s thick tongue lapped at Cecil’s hand gently, and Cecil suppressed a giggle. It tickled!

“See? Wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Carmen said as she let go of Max’s collar. The dog trotted into the living room, where Gracie had retreated after hearing the calls of her twin cousins, and Carmen went to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“So where is everybody?” She asked.

“José, Carlos, and Andre are out getting a Christmas tree, and Maria had choir practice. The boys are in the living room trying to play Twister, and Ashley said she wanted to lay down for a little while, so I assume she’s sleeping.” Cecil answered as he plucked dog hair from his sweater.

“ _Finally_ Dad’s going to get that damn Christmas tree!” Carmen said. “He’s been putting it off for weeks now.” She took a long sip of coffee.

“Why is that?”

Carmen shrugged. “He said he didn’t want the dang thing to die before Abuela could see it.” She said. “She’ll be here Christmas Eve, which is only – wow, only two days from now. She lives in Florida in a retirement home.”

Cecil nodded. He had wondered why he had had yet to meet Carlos’s abuela, but the thought of asking why had not been considered in the excitement of the previous day’s events. If he were being honest, Cecil had almost completely forgotten about her.

A sharp tinkling rang through the air as the two fell into comfortable silence, and Carmen pulled a blue phone from her pocket.

“Crap,” she muttered. “Give me a second.” She stepped into the foyer, pressing the phone to her ear. “ _Please_ tell me you aren’t calling for what I think you’re calling for, Janelle.”

The radio host decided to allow her some privacy, and made his exit into the living room, where Donovan, Cody, and Gracie were all engaged in a game of Twister set up on the floor. Gracie was holding the spinner.

“Left hand green!” She called.

“No way!” Donovan protested from his – rather unfortunate – pretzel-like formation on the mat. “That’s the third time you’re called that in a row! You’re cheating again!”

Gracie scowled and stomped her foot. “I am not!” She said. “I can’t help that the arrow keeps landing on it!” She flicked the spinner again. “Right foot yellow!”

Cody went to reach his leg over his brother when Donovan spotted Cecil as he walked into the room, and grinned, jumping to his feet, sending Cody careening over, glaring at his brother as Gracie guffawed at her cousin’s misfortune.

“Cecil!” He said. “Wanna play?”

Cecil laughed. “Sure.” He said, walking over to the mat and removing his socks to allow for better traction, making sure to place them within eyeshot so as to discourage the sock trolls from stealing them; they were the purple argyle ones, his favorite.

Gracie waited patiently as her cousins and Cecil got into position on the mat before she sat down crosslegged and flicked the arrow.

“Right foot red!” She called, and the three players in front of her did as she asked.

“Left hand green!”

Cecil bent himself easily over the forms of Donovan and Cody, who were small enough to fit underneath his crouched form. Cecil was suddenly very grateful for his agility and flexibility; he was in no way a contortionist – he and his childhood best friend Earl Harlan had had many a competition during their time in the Boy Scouts trying to put their feet behind their heads, never with any level of success – but growing up in Night Vale had at least trained him to be able to move quickly, and in various poses.

“Left hand red!”

Well. Now that posed a problem.

“Don’t fall on us!” Cody begged as he shakily reached his slightly too short arm forward towards the red dot next to his brother’s hand. “You’ll crush us!”

Cecil chuckled. “I’ll try.” He promised.

“Right hand red!”

Donovan collapsed beneath him, and Gracie laughed.

“You’re out, Donnie!” She said.

Donovan mumbled underneath his breath as he scooted himself off of the man, leaving his brother wobbling slightly as Cecil managed to remain firmly planted with both hands and his right foot on red dots. Cody was struggling, especially considering there was only one red dot left, and he currently had both hands on the open dot, and one foot atop Cecil’s. Cecil’s left leg was perfectly poised in the air, with nowhere to rest, until, finally, Gracie called out, “Left foot blue!”

With that, he sat down his foot, and in the process, promptly collapsed in a heap, Cody squeaking as he did as well, barely avoiding getting crushed below Cecil. He and Cecil sat dazed on the mat before they looked at one another, and burst into laughter.

“You _all_ lose!” Gracie said as she proudly grinned, waving the spinner board. “Guess that means I win by default!”

“No way!” Donovan said. “I demand a rematch!”

At that moment, Carmen walked into the room. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the Twister mat.

“Do I even _want_ to know?” She asked finally.

“Donnie, Cody, and Ceesaw all fell!” Gracie said. “So I won, didn’t I, Mommy?”

Carmen chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t think that’s how it works, kiddo.” She said, ruffling Gracie’s curls. She looked at Cecil, who had picked himself off of the floor and was straightening his purple glasses. “Hey, Cecil, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course!” Cecil said. He looked at the children. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, but we’re starting without you!” Donovan said as he grabbed the spinner board from Gracie. “I’m spinner this time!”

Cecil followed Carmen back into the kitchen, and he realized as his bare feet hit the cool tile that he had forgotten to replace his socks. Carmen ran a hand through her hair and let out a long sigh.

“I have a _huge favor_ to ask.” She said finally, wringing her hands. “That was my coworker Janelle at the hospital. Carla’s husband and daughter have the flu and she can’t make it into work, and they need someone to cover a two hour shift until Marc can get there. Is there any way I can convince you to stay with the kids while I run to work and cover for Carla?”

“Of course!” Cecil said. “It’ll be no trouble!”

Carmen looked unsure. “Are you sure? I also promised I’d make gingerbread cookies with them today. Have you ever made gingerbread?”

Cecil shook his head. “I can’t say that I have, but I’m sure there’s a recipe online I can conjure.”

“No need for that; you can use Mamá’s. It’s in the book by the toaster.” Carmen pointed to the toaster in the corner, where a red book was propped up next to it. “It’s a really easy recipe, and you should have all the ingredients…usually I’d ask Ashley to watch them, but she’s getting _really_ close to her due date and I want her to be able to rest as much as possible.” She looked at Cecil seriously. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay with this? They can be a bit hard to handle sometimes…”

Cecil smiled and squeezed Carmen’s shoulder.

“I assure you, I can handle this.” He said confidently. “I’ve dealt with much worse back home, _believe me._ ” He rolled his eyes. “Those mute children that come to the studio from time to time can be quite the handful.”

Carmen blinked a few times at him in obvious confusion before she shook her head.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “If you’re sure…”

“Positive!” Cecil grinned. “You do what you have to.”

After a second, a brilliant grin not unlike the one Carlos wore whenever he saw Cecil broke out on her face, and she threw her arms around Cecil’s neck.

“Thank you, thank you, _thankyouthankyouthankyou!_ ” She said. “You are saving my life here, you have no idea.” She kissed his cheek chastely. “You’re also preventing a mutiny, which is never a bad thing to avoid.”

Cecil laughed in agreement. Carmen released him and quickly texted a reply into her phone before she walked back into the living room.

“Alright, nerdlets,” she addressed the children. “I have to go into work for a few hours, but Cecil is going to stay with you until I get back, okay?”

“But Tía Carmen!” Cody protested. “You promised you’d make gingerbread with us!”

Carmen ruffled Cody’s dark red hair. “Sorry, Code,” she said. “But I can’t today. Cecil said he’d help you, _but…_ ” She raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips menacingly. “That’s _only_ if you promise to behave and stay quiet so you don’t wake up your mom, _and_ you promise not to coerce Cecil into anything you know you aren’t allowed to do, _and_ you clean up any messes you make. Deal?”

The three children nodded vigorously.

“We promise!” They said in unison.

“Raise your right hand, stand on one leg, and cross you heart.” Carmen commanded, and the children complied, though Gracie seemed to have a bit of a problem remaining balanced. “Do you hereby solemnly swear that you will _not_ be up to no good while I’m gone?”

“We solemnly swear!” They said.

“And you are aware that the breaking of this vow is punishable by tickling?” Carmen fixed them with a serious stare, but winked at Cecil, who smiled.

“Yes!”

“Alright. You can stop now.” She bent and kissed Gracie on the forehead. “Keep ‘em in line, Gracie Girl.” She whispered to her daughter, who saluted her.

“Aye aye, captain!” She said, and giggled.

“That’s my girl!” Carmen smiled. “You guys be good for Uncle Cecil, and we’ll see about going sledding when _Abuelo,_ Tío Carlos and Andre get back, okay?”

With the possibility of sledding, the three kids nodded.

“Okay!”

Carmen gave them a single nod and turned to walk away, leaning in to whisper to Cecil as she passed him.

“If they act up, just lock them in the bathroom.” She said. “Or sic Max on them, but he won’t do much more than sit on them.”

Cecil chuckled. “We’ll be fine, Carmen. I’ll make sure they don’t wake up Ashley, either.”

Carmen smiled and gave Cecil’s arm a squeeze.

“Thank you so much for this, Cecil. I owe you one!”

With that, she grabbed her coat and purse, and quickly retreated into the snowy world outside and into her car.

Gracie pulled on Cecil’s sleeve.

“Ceesaw?” She asked quietly. “Can we make gingerbread now?”

Cecil smiled as he bent and scooped the little girl into the air, tossing her over his shoulder as she laughed in delight.

“I don’t see why not.” He said, and waved a hand at the boys. “Come on, then! Gingerbread won’t make itself!”

The twins followed him into the kitchen, where he gently sat Gracie back onto the floor. He walked over to the toaster and pulled the recipe book from beside it, flipping through it until he found one labeled “gingerbread.”

“Alright, guys, I need…butter, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, brown sugar…” He went down the list of ingredients while the twins and Gracie gathered them from the various cupboards and the fridge, dropping them onto the counter as they did so. Before long, all of the ingredients were gathered.

“What about yeast?” Donovan questioned. “We learned in class that yeast is what makes bread rise…so don’t we need that to make the dough work?”

“Hmm…” Cecil pondered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not much of a baker, honestly. So I suppose you could be correct, but I’m not sure yeast is required for cookies…”

“I think Donnie is right!” Gracie said. “Because what if he _is_ right and our cookies don’t come out right?!”

“Well, I suppose adding yeast couldn’t _hurt…_ ” Cecil reasoned. “If nothing else, they’ll just be more bread-like and less cookie-like.”

Cody held up a small packet of dry yeast from the breadbox near the toaster.

“I found some of Abuela’s!” He said as he proudly placed it on the counter next to the other ingredients.

Cecil chuckled as he carefully rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. Cody and Donovan’s eyes went wide as Cecil’s tattoos came into view.

“Whoa, cool!” Donovan said. “You have tattoos?!”

Cecil grinned. “Sometimes if you watch carefully, they’ll move.”

“Really?! _Cool!_ ” Cody said.

“No way! Tattoos don’t move!” Donovan admonished. “They’re just ink, how can they move?”

“Well, in Night Vale, a lot of things are possible that aren’t possible here.” Cecil explained vaguely. “And maybe tattoos can move there.” He winked at the kids, whose eyes had gone wide as they blinked at him.

“Hey, I think one of them moved!” Gracie said, pointing to one of the tentacles on Cecil’s arm. “It wiggled!”

“No way, let me see!” Donovan demanded, and Cecil held out his arms, palms out and facing upwards, as the kids surveyed the ink on his skin. He chuckled inwardly; he knew for a fact that his tattoos had not moved even the slightest, though he found himself suddenly missing the familiar tingle as they would twitch and float across his skin back home, but he allowed the kids to believe that maybe, just maybe, they _had_ moved.

“ _Awesome._ ” Cody grinned at Cecil.

“Tell us more about Night Vale!” Gracie pleaded as Cecil began carefully measuring the ingredients into a large bowl from the drying rack by the sink. “Please?”

“Hmm…” Cecil mused. “Tell you what. Let’s get through this cookie making business, and then I promise I’ll tell you all about Night Vale as we sit down and devour them all. Sound like a deal?”

“Yes!” Gracie said, and the twins nodded enthusiastically.

The kids were quiet for a few more precious moments as Cecil added together the necessary components into the bowl, adding the small packet of yeast last, and stirred them together with a large wooden spoon. He preheated the oven to 350 degrees, just as the book said, and spooned out some of the dough onto a cookie sheet.

“I wish the cookie cutter hadn’t broke!” Gracie said dejectedly, pouting slightly. “Then we could have _real_ gingerbread.”

Cecil ruffled her hair. “I’m sure it will taste the same. I doubt shape has anything to do with that.”

“But it’s not the same!” Gracie insisted. “They were so much more fun when they were in the shape of Christmas trees and stars!”

“Agreed.” Donovan said.

About five minutes later, the oven gave a cheery _ding!_ indicating that it had reached the preferred heat setting, and Cecil very carefully placed the cookie sheet inside. Gracie eagerly plopped herself in front of the oven door and peered inside.

“Look! You can watch them cook!” She said. “Mommy and I always do that whenever we make cookies at home. It’s fun!”

Cecil smiled as he washed the dishes in the sink. The boys, with nothing better to do, sat down beside Gracie in front of the oven to observe the cookie dough as it rose.

As Cecil was drying off the mixing bowl and placing it in the drying rack, Cody said from his place on the floor,

“Uh, Cecil? Is gingerbread supposed to bubble?”

Cecil frowned, and quickly sat down the bowl, and went to investigate, wiping his hands on his pants , and squatted down beside the kids to look through the clear door of the oven.

Inside, the cookies – if you could call them that – were bubbling like caldrons, the carefully measured distances between rendered to mere pockets of air as they melted and formed into what looked like a gurgling, possessed puddle in the middle of the cookie sheet. The dough had begun to run, and was dripping off the side of the pan onto the bottom of the oven, where it sizzled and smoked.

_Crap._

Cecil was no baker, nor was he a scientist, but he was certain that cookies were _not_ supposed to dissolve into grotesque, bubbling masses.

“Stand back!” He commanded the children, his Radio Voice leaking out, and he quickly flipped the knob on the stove off, and grabbed the oven mitts from their hook on the wall by the light switch that activated the garbage disposal. He opened the oven, and smoke poured from it in thick, grey clouds. The kids coughed from their place underneath the table, and Cecil waved his hand, frantically trying to dissipate some of the smoke as he grabbed the cookie sheet with the other. It continued to bubble and drip onto the floor as he hurriedly rushed to the foyer and opened the front door, where he scurried onto the porch and flung the smoldering mass, cookie sheet and all, into the snow below, where it gave a final hiss as it ceased smoking and promptly died.

Cecil gave the defeated cookie sheet and its indiscernible blob a final nod as he turned on his heel and hurried back into the kitchen, where the children still huddled beneath the table.

“You can come out now.” He said. “It’s gone now.”

“What went wrong?” Donovan asked as he crawled out behind his brother and cousin.

Cecil shook his head. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “Maybe the stove didn’t like them? My stove has a tendency to spit back out anything it does not deem worthy of being consumed on occasion.”

“Maybe it didn’t like that they weren’t shaped like actual gingerbread men!” Gracie suggested.

“Silly, stoves don’t _like_ things!” Cody said, crossing his arms. “They don’t have brains!”

“They can so like things!” Gracie insisted, stomping her foot for emphasis. “Right, Uncle Ceesaw?”

“I must agree with Gracie, boys.” Cecil said, nodding. “Just because it doesn’t have a brain doesn’t mean it isn’t sentient.”

Donovan opened his mouth to argue when at that moment, Ashley walked into the room, clad in plaid pajama bottoms, pink fuzzy socks, and a large, long sleeved maternity shirt pulled over her bulging belly. Her red hair was disheveled, and her green eyes wide as she surveyed the scene before her. Smoke still danced hazily in the air, and the entire room reeked of the burned cookie batter that had fallen off of the pan into the bottom of the stove.

“What in the world is going on in here?!” She asked as she stepped hesitantly forward. She looked at Cecil, who looked down at the floor guiltily, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Uncle Ceesaw killed the gingerbread!” Gracie said enthusiastically. “They melted off the pan and he had to throw it outside before it exploded!”

Ashley blinked at her niece before she settled her confused gaze back on Cecil, who bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I think the stove disapproved.” He said meekly.

Ashley shook her head and walked over to the stove, peering inside at the blackened spots of charred batter. “What recipe did you use?” She asked.

“Maria’s,” Cecil answered, showing her the recipe book.

Ashley took it and surveyed the instructions.

“Did you put all the ingredients together correctly?” She asked.

Cecil nodded. “We added yeast, though, because we weren’t sure if it would rise or not without it…”

Ashley suddenly threw back her head and laughed, shaking her head.

“Cecil, you’re not supposed to add _yeast_ to cookie dough!” She said. “The yeast reacts with the sugar and it creates carbon dioxide!”

“Oh.” Cecil said, blinking. “I…I didn’t know that. Sorry.”

Ashley chuckled again, and reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder, still shaking her head.

“That’s alright, Cecil.” She said between giggles. “You didn’t know. And you didn’t set the house on fire, and no one was hurt, so I don’t think you have anything to apologize for.”

Cecil’s face was still flushed in embarrassment, but he smiled at Ashley.

“Did we wake you up, Mom?” Cody asked. Ashley shook her head.

“No, you’re baby sibling was keeping me up.” She answered. “He or she will _not_ stop kicking me.”

“Ooooh, can I feel, Tía Ashley?!” Gracie begged. “Please?!”

Ashley smiled and nodded. Gracie giddily placed her tiny hands against her aunt’s belly, and Ashley placed her hands over them, guiding them to the side.

“Right there.” She said. “That’s where they’re kicking.”

“I don’t feel anything!” Gracie said.

“Just wait.” Ashley promised.

After a few more seconds, Gracie broke out in a huge grin, and she squealed in delight.

“I felt it, I felt it!” She cried as she bounced happily. “It kicked!”

Donovan and Cody grinned broadly as they, too, pressed their hands to their mother’s stomach, and felt as their little brother or sister kicked at their hands, too, as though heralding a hello to the world outside its mother’s womb.

Ashley looked at Cecil, who watched in rapt fascination.

“Do you want to?” She asked.

“Oh, um…” Cecil chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Of course, come on!” Ashley said, reaching out and grabbing his hand, bringing his palm against her firm belly.

There was suddenly a small, tiny tap against Cecil’s hand, like the faint flutter of a butterfly wing against skin, and Cecil couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face as he felt the child inside of Ashley kick him again.

“Oh my gosh, that is just… _neat!_ ” He gushed, pulling his hand away. “Thank you!”

Ashley smiled. “You’re welcome.” She said. “I take it you’ve never done that before?”

Cecil shook his head. “No, never.” He said. “But it was beautiful.”

Ashley ‘hmmed’ in agreement as she gently caressed her stomach. “It is.” She affirmed. “There’s nothing like bringing life into this big and crazy world.” Her green eyes were sparkling.

Cody pulled on Cecil’s arm.

“Hey, Cecil, we want to build a fort in the living room!” He said. “Will you help us? We don’t know how.”

“Of course!” Cecil said as he allowed the boy to pull him towards the living room. He shot Ashley a grin, and she laughed. “I didn’t earn my Fort Building Badge when I was in the Boy Scouts just standing around, now did I?”

Cody released Cecil as they entered the living room, where Gracie was completely covered by a large sheet, and Cecil sincerely hoped that she hadn’t pulled it from anyone’s bed.

“Get me out, get me out!” She demanded. “When I get my hands on you, Donnie, you are in _so much trouble, mister_!”

Cecil chuckled and reached out to held untangle Gracie from beneath the sheets. Her head popped out from the folds, her hair disheveled, and she glared at her cousin.

“Meanie.” She said. She smiled at Cecil. “Thank you, Uncle Ceesaw!”

“So how are we gonna do this?” Donovan asked. “Dad usually helps us when we build them at home, and he always uses chairs.”

“Mommy used to make me a fort using the couch cushions!” Gracie suggested.

“Well, that’s not happening.” Ashley said as she waddled in the room and slowly sank onto the couch, her hand on her stomach.

The three kids looked to Cecil, who looked around the room contemplatively, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The corner next to the television was most certainly out; Carlos had informed him before leaving that that was for the customary placement of the Christmas tree. The couch was currently occupied, and Cecil highly doubted José would be too pleased to come home and be unable to sit down and enjoy television, which also ruled out the kitchen table’s chairs – after all, Cecil preferred to sit rather than stand to eat. Finally his gaze settled on the corner between the left side of the couch and the wall.

He walked over to it and surveyed the space carefully, making sure there was enough space for the three kids to squeeze in together, and that there was some form of way to hang a sheet. He supposed one chair could be spared from the table, so long as it was replaced before Abuela joined them in two days. The cogs in his brain suddenly went into overdrive, and he clapped his hands together.

“Alright!” He said brightly. “I believe I have a solution!” He grabbed the sheet. “Let’s get started!”

 

...oOo...

 

Carmen arrived back from work just as Carlos, José, and Andre returned from their Christmas tree excursion triumphant, a full and nicely sized six foot tree strapped to the roof of José’s car.

Carmen grinned and cocked an eyebrow at her brothers and father as she neared them.

“Success, then, I take it?” She asked.

Andre smirked. “Thank God. I thought Dad was never going to decide.”

“ _No seas descarado, muchacho._ ” José said, but he smiled at his son, shaking his head.

“Where were you?” Carlos asked as he grabbed the rope that held the Christmas tree in place and began untying it. “I thought you were making cookies with the kids today?”

“I got called in to work for a couple hours.” Carmen explained as she, too, grabbed at the rope to help, setting to work on a particularly interesting knot that she was sure Andre had tied. “Ashley was laying down, so I asked Cecil if he would mind watching the kids until I got back.”

Carlos stopped what he was doing and laughed.

“I swear, Carmen, if I go in there and my boyfriend has been sacrificed to a glitter or makeup god, I’m blaming you!” He said good-naturedly.  He saw José give him a pointed look out of the corner of his eye at the use of the word ‘boyfriend,’ but he ignored it.

Carmen rolled her eyes. “I’m sure he’s makeup free. Max ate all of Gracie’s lip gloss a couple days ago anyway.”

“He’d let her do whatever she wanted.” Andre said as he grabbed at the trunk of the tree with José close behind. “Seems like she’s got him wrapped around her finger.”

Carlos chuckled. “Most kids do.”

Together, the three men hoisted the tree from the top of the car, and slowly made their way towards the front door as Carmen ran ahead to open it.

Very carefully, José helped Andre and Carlos guide the large tree inside through the door. They paused in the foyer, setting it down for a moment.

“ _Hola!”_ He called. “ _Donde está todo el mundo?”_

“In here!” Came Ashley’s voice from the living room.

“Just set the tree against the wall for a second, boys.” José said as he slipped his gloves from his hands and shut the door. “We still have to get the base from the attic anyway. Don’t block the door or your mamá won’t be able to get inside.”

Carlos and Andre did as they were told before they stomped out of their boots and sat them by the door before walking into the living room.

The entire living room had been completely transformed in what could only be described as a winter wonderland straight out of the movie _Elf._ Paper snowflakes hung from colorful yarn from the ceiling, and light fixtures, and paper chains were extended from corner to corner. Ashley was contentedly stapling another ring onto a rather long paper chain from the couch, while Donovan and Cody tackled the other end. Cecil and Gracie sat at the center of the room, snipping away at carefully folded sheets of paper with safety scissors, the chain wound around them.   Gracie giggled as Cecil unfolded the piece of paper he had been cutting to reveal a snowflake with the Night Vale Community Radio logo expertly positioned into each spire.

“Cool!” She said. She held up her own snowflake, which was much more crudely cut, and observably more square than Cecil’s elegant, perfectly symmetrical work.

“Neat!” Cecil commented. He caught sight of Carlos, and his face lit up, and he gave him a small wave. “Oh, Carlos! You’re back!”

Carlos chuckled as he walked further into the room, his brother, sister, and father not far behind.

“What is all this?” Andre asked as he crossed the room to kiss his wife.

“It was the kids’ idea.” Ashley explained. “Cecil just sort of…expedited it.”

“Whatever happened to making cookies?” Carmen asked as she reached out a hand to gently touch a snowflake – it had depictions of cats on it, so it was most definitely Cecil’s.

“Tío Cecil blew them up.” Cody said as he added another ring to the paper chain.

“Yeah! And he had to throw it outside so it wouldn’t blow up the whole house!” Gracie piped.

Carlos’s eyebrows rose, his eyes widening in alarm, and he looked at his blushing boyfriend, who remained positioned on the floor next to Gracie.

“I may have added yeast to the dough…” He said. “Sorry.”

Carlos couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing, the worry suddenly eradicated. He could see the reaction in his mind’s eye, and somehow, he found it extremely hilarious.

“And that is why you aren’t allowed anywhere near the chemicals in the lab, _querido._ ” He said affectionately as he offered a hand to Cecil to help him to his feet.

Cecil grinned at him, and took his hand, hoisting himself upwards.

“Abuelo, Abuelo, look at the fort we built!” Gracie said as she, too, leapt to her feet and grabbed José’s hand. José gave her a soft smile, and Carlos found himself musing that this was one of the first times he’d seen his father smile since his arrival. José allowed the little girl to drag him over to where a sheet had been positioned in a tent like fashion, one end stuck in between the back cushions of the couch, another tied to the back of a chair from the dining room table, and the third corner carefully wedged beneath the windowpane, while the fourth and final corner was allowed to hang like a flapping door. Carlos resisted the urge to laugh as he realized that the sheets were some of Andre’s old ones with the ducks on it.

Gracie raised the flap to show her grandfather the myriad of extra blankets and pillows inside, as well as a few flashlights and some of Carlos’s old comic books.

José chuckled mirthfully as he sat his hand atop Gracie’s dark curls.

“It’s lovely, _pequeño._ ” He said. “Did you build it all by yourself?”

Gracie shook her head.

“Tío Cecil helped us!” She said. “He’s really good at building forts, though I think he needs to never bake cookies again. They were terrible.”

José frowned. “What did you say?”

“Tío Cecil can’t bake.” Gracie said, giggling. “But he can make really pretty paper snowflakes!”

José shook his head, and took in a deep breath. Suddenly Carlos was very aware of what he was about to say, and he grabbed Cecil’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Cecil isn’t your uncle, _pequeño._ ” José said gently but sternly to Gracie.

“Yes he is!” Gracie insisted. “He’s Tío Carlos’s boyfriend, so he’s my uncle, like Tía Ashley is my aunt.”

Carlos saw Carmen nodding her head slightly from the corner of his eye, and for the thousandth time in his life, he was thankful that his sister was as supportive as she was, and that she was, in fact, a brilliant mother that was raising a brilliant child.

“Cecil can’t be your uncle, Gracie.” José said, just as sternly.

“Why not?” Gracie’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at her grandfather, who shook his head, unable to explain it to her. “I want to call him Tío Cecil, so I will.” She crossed her little arms.

In the end, nothing more was said about the subject, and it was dropped as Gracie’s attentions were once again stolen by her twin cousins as they proclaimed that they were going into the backyard to build a snowman. José stole into the kitchen, shaking his head and muttering in Spanish that Carlos didn’t quite catch.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Andre finally cleared his throat.

“Hey, _hermano,_ wanna go into the attic and get the tree base?” He asked. “I’m going to help the boys get into their snowsuits, then we can get the tree up. I think the decorations are up there, too.”

Carlos, eager for a reason to remove himself – and Cecil – from the stuffy air José’s opposition had left, nodded.

“Sure.” He said. He turned his head and looked at Cecil. “I could probably use some help carrying down the boxes of decorations. Want to help?”

“Of course!” Cecil answered brightly, beaming. “I’d gladly offer my assistance.”

Carlos squeezed his hand and nodded to his brother before he turned and led Cecil down the hall to the door in the ceiling in front of what Cecil could only assume was José and Maria’s room, or perhaps even the spare bedroom. Carlos bragged the string hanging from it and pulled until the ladder descended all the way to the floor. He tested the first rung before he climbed into the ceiling, offering Cecil a hand once inside.

Cecil accepted it, and Carlos helped haul him upwards. The attic was a few degrees colder than the rest of the house, and Carlos gave an involuntary shiver as he stood to his feet and looked around the slightly cluttered space for the tree base. He spied it hiding beneath what appeared to be an old horse blanket in the corner, and he made his way towards it, ducking his head as the ceiling slopped downwards. He grabbed it and tucked it beneath his arm.

“Found it!” He declared, turning back to face Cecil, who was kneeling next to a box labeled “ _Carlos”_ not far from the door to the attic.

“Awwwww, Carlos, look!” He crooned, pulling a picture frame from the box. “You were absolutely adorable!”

“What?” Carlos walked closer, and looked at the picture Cecil held in his hands. It was, indeed, a picture of Carlos when he was about eight or nine years old. He was standing against the side of the shed out back, grinning a gap-toothed grin, as his two front teeth were missing. His hair was much as it was now, the curls sticking out at all angles, but without the silver at his temples (which he would forever blame on his days as a grad student). He was wearing a _Back to the Future_ t-shirt, which he was fairly certain his mother still had stashed somewhere.

“And look!” Cecil said as he reached back into the box and produced several hardbound books. “Yearbooks!”

“Oh god,” Carlos said as he sat himself down next to Cecil. “I thought I told Carmen to get rid of those!”

Cecil elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Why ever would you want to do that?!” He demanded. He traced the label with his finger. “1999?”

“I was sixteen then, so I was a junior.” Carlos said as Cecil opened the yearbook, flipping through the pages until he came across one labeled “Class of 2000” in bright red letters. He ran his fingers down the margin of the page at the last names until, finally, he came across “Carlos Ramirez,” and found the corresponding photo.

He couldn’t contain the small laugh of pleasure as he gazed down at the dorky picture of his teenaged boyfriend, captured forever in the yearbook photo. His hair had been cut extremely short, almost shorn, on the sides, creating a puff of curls at the top, just above his ears. It was befitting, somehow, as much as Cecil loved the way he allowed his hair to fall in pleasant waves now. He wore a crooked, almost shy grin, and his glasses were _enormous_ with their thick frames and lenses.

“Your hair!” He said, pointing to it, laughing. “It’s so different!”

“Hey, I will have you know that was the style back then!” Carlos said, trying to sound offended, but the smile on his face gave him away. “I kept it like that until I went to college. It’s coming back in style.”

“No, no, I like it!” Cecil said. “I do, really! It suits you.”

He flipped through a few more pages until he happened across the band page, where he found Carlos amid the group photo of the marching band.

“I think there’s a picture of me and Carmen in there somewhere…” Carlos said as he turned his attention to the box beside them, setting the tree base down to rummage through it for a minute. “Here it is! Mom has a copy framed downstairs on the mantel, but I had one, too, in my room.”

He handed the frame to Cecil, who closed the yearbook and took it. The picture was of him, Carmen, and Andre, around the same year. They were all posing against a chain link fence, a football field behind them. Andre had on football gear, his helmet in his left hand. Carmen and Carlos had their backs to one another, Carmen with what Cecil recognized as “Rachel Hair,” dressed in a red and gold sequined outfit with a green flag in her hand, while Carlos donned his marching band uniform, an alto saxophone hanging from his neck.

“You played saxophone?” Cecil asked, raising an eyebrow. Carlos nodded.

“I still have it,” he said. “It’s in my closet at home.”

 _Home._ Just the way he said it made his spine tingle. He had never expected to call Night Vale home, but, then again, he had never expected a lot of what had been awaiting him in the strange little desert town.

Cecil smiled. “You never told me you played!” He said. “I played piano when I was younger, though I played the dirigido in high school for a year.”

Carlos laughed, the image of Cecil walking around on the dusty ground of Night Vale High School’s football field with a dirigido in his hands was almost absurd.

“I play guitar, too, if it’s worth anything.” Carlos said. “My roommate at Caltech taught me.”

“Neat!” Cecil grinned. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Carlos smiled and kissed Cecil’s temple. “Someday.” He promised. “Now, come on, let’s get this tree base and the decorations downstairs before Andre comes looking for us. That tree isn’t going to decorate itself.”

“Can I take this down with me?” Cecil gestured to the box. “I can put it in our room, so it’s out of the way.”

Carlos shrugged. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Mamá might actually let you keep some of them, if you ask her. I don’t think she’ll miss them too much if they’re up here.”

Cecil squeaked delightedly, and he placed the yearbooks and photos back in the box before he lifted it into his arms. Carlos quickly located the Christmas tree decorations box, and grabbed it, placing the tree base on top.

“Can you get down okay?” He asked Cecil as his boyfriend began to back himself down the ladder, one arm around the box and his free hand clutching the rungs.

“I think so.” Cecil said. He reached the floor, and sat the box down. “Here, hand me the tree base.”

Carlos did as he asked, and lowered the base down into Cecil’s hands before he, too, made his way down the ladder. His footing slipped on the last rung, and he would have fallen had Cecil not reached out and steadied him as his feet slammed into the carpet.

“Thanks.” He said.

“Always, dearest Carlos.” Cecil said, pecking him on the cheek.

Carlos smiled, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw José peering at them from the living room, and he swallowed.

 _Don’t let him bother you so much, Carlos._ He said to himself.

Still, as he and Cecil made their way back into the living room after Cecil had deposited the box of yearbooks into their room, he couldn’t stop the butterflies of anxiety that floated in his stomach.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right, I gave Teenage!Carlos Dylan hair. 
> 
> Also, I find the mental image of Cecil playing the dirigido hilarious. Jussayin'.
> 
> \------------  
> Translations:
> 
> -No seas descarado, muchacho: "Don't be cheeky, boy"  
> -Donde está todo el mundo: "Where is everybody?"  
> -abuelo: "grandfather"  
> -pequeño: "Little one"


	8. Little Shopper Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen takes charge, Andre and Cecil have some bonding time, and Carlos can't wrap. At least he has his looks, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, yeah...I tweeted Cecil Baldwin and he liked my tweet...and I about had a fangirl attack. The sounds that came out of my mouth were not human, and I regret nothing!!!!
> 
> -ahem- 
> 
> Anyway, thank you SO MUCH to all of those who have left kudos and comments so far! It means so much, and it always makes me smile. :) Thank you, a thousand times, thank you! I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this ride, because I know I am!
> 
> That being said, enjoy it while you can, my lovelies, because the next chapter bringeth woe! This story is about to go from tooth-rottingly fluffy to heart-wrenchingly angsty! Because that is how the doodlegirll do! :D (But seriously. Angst is coming.) 
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Absentee" by Jack Campbell (It was the Weather in Epi. 37: "The Auction")

 

The tree proved to be an interesting time for Cecil, seeing as he had never before decorated one without the usual tentacles and City Council mandated All Seeing Eye at the top, but he nonetheless had an exceptional time going through an placing the ornaments on the tree after somehow getting himself completely entangled in the strings of lights when Carlos turned his back for three minutes. He had sheepishly grinned when Carlos had raised an inquisitive brow as he helped unwind his boyfriend from the strands.

“You are a walking catastrophe sometimes, I swear.” He chuckled as he pulled the last light from where it had snagged in Cecil’s sweater. “Eventually I’m just going to have to wrap you in bubblewrap and call it a day.”

Cecil chewed his bottom lip, trying not to smile. “That’s why I’m in the medium of radio, dearest Carlos.” He said. “As far as journalistic professions go, I think it’s safe to assume that radio is the least dangerous.”

“I don’t know about that.” Carlos countered. “You’ve gotten yourself into some interesting mishaps. Need I remind you of the time you ran down the street to interview the renegade rhino that escaped from the zoo?”

Cecil waved a hand dismissively, but his violet eyes were wide and pleading with Carlos to not reveal the embarrassing details of the excursion when Carmen turned and gave them an interested look.

Eventually, Cecil had been detangled, the lights had been strung and plugged in, and the ornaments had been added. Carlos hoisted Gracie onto his shoulders to allow her to top the tree with the angel Maria had croqueted in her youth, and the deed was done.

“ _Qué hermoso árbol!_ ” Came a voice from the door, and Maria walked into the room, smiling widely as she placed her hands on her hips and walked towards the Christmas tree.

“Abuela!” Gracie cried, hugging her grandmother around the legs. “Isn’t it pretty?! Tío Carlos let me put the angel on!”

Maria smiled and pinched Gracie gently on the cheek.

“And you did a wonderful job, _cariño._ ” She said.

Gracie beamed as she pulled away from Maria and bound into the fort at the other end of the room, where Donovan and Cody had retreated after the last ornament had been placed. There were cries of fowl as she barreled into one of them.

“It _does_ look great.” Carmen agreed, and she slung her arms around Carlos and Cecil’s shoulders. “But…it’s still missing something.”

“Yeah, presents.” Carlos said. “I haven’t even been shopping yet.”

Carmen laughed. “Well, luckily for you, I’m about to head to the mall! If the two of you wanted to tag along, you’re more than welcome. I promised Gracie I’d take her to see Santa Claus tomorrow before I have to head into work, so if you don’t want to go now, you can always stick around then.”

“No, now sounds great.” Carlos said, looking at Cecil, whose violet eyes were sparkling with curiosity. “You up for it, Cec?”

“Yes!” Cecil agreed enthusiastically. “Admittedly, I have not gotten any shopping done myself.”

“It’s settled, then.” Carmen said, releasing her brother and his boyfriend. “You have twenty minutes, gents. Get going.”

She pushed the two of them towards the hall. Smiling, they made their way into Carlos’s old bedroom, where Carlos pulled a clean flannel from one of the drawers and slipped it over his sweater.

“I’m beginning to miss the lab coat.” Cecil pouted as he slipped on a pair of fluffy socks that Carlos was sure could pass as a kitten. He grabbed his knitted NVCR scarf from where it hung around the bedpost, and slung it over his neck.

Carlos smiled. “Me, too.” He admitted. “But I’m down to my last three, after I let you keep the one. I just had Angie spill a solution on one of them last week that made it change colors depending on my mood, and that only proved a distraction, especially…” He trailed off, blushing slightly.

“What?” Cecil pressed.

“Especially when your show is on.” Carlos mumbled softly.

“Carlos – sweet, lovely Carlos – are you implying that your emotionally coordinated lab coat causes you embarrassment whenever you listen to my show at work?” Cecil couldn’t keep the smile from his face as his scientist’s brown skin turned another shade of red.

“What can I say?” Carlos asked as he crossed the room to pull Cecil into his arms. “You make my dopamine levels go crazy.” He pressed his lips against Cecil’s, relishing in the privacy the closed door offered, where there were no prying eyes or opinions to be had. Cecil returned the kiss in earnest, his hand coming up to gently caress the stubble at Carlos’s jawline before snaking into his hair.

Carlos finally pulled away, rubbing his nose against Cecil’s.

“Love you.” He whispered.

“Love you, too.” Cecil smiled.

“Alright, lovebirds, break it up!”

The two men jumped apart, whirling around to face the doorway, where Carmen stood, an amused smirk on her face. Cecil blushed deeply, looking extremely guilty, like a child caught in the act of stealing another cookie, and Carlos almost laughed. Almost.

Carmen shook her head, but her blue eyes were sparkling.

“I swear, the two of you are so sweet you’ll give us all cavities.” She grumbled. “Are you two ready?”

Carlos nodded, and he grabbed his wallet from the dresser, slipping it into his back pocket.

“As we’ll ever be.” He said.

“Well, then, let’s go!” Carmen said, gesturing with her hand to indicate a need for rushing. “We don’t have all day!”

“Bossy.” Carlos muttered under his breath as he passed his sister, and he managed to dodge the light punch she aimed at his arm.

They made their way into the foyer, where they forced their feet into their boots – Cecil was excited to finally be able to use his new pair – and pulled on their coats.

“Whoa, damn!” Carmen said as Cecil zipped up his parka. “That shade of green is _not_ found in nature!”

“Of course it is!” Cecil protested. “I’ll have you know there are plenty of plants that grow along the perimeter of Radon Canyon in Night Vale that have stems and leaves in this lovely hue! Of course, they’re slightly radioactive…”

He trailed off when Carlos shook his head, waving his hands a bit in a motion Cecil took to mean “ex-nay on the alking-tay.” Luckily he was fluent in not only Pig Latin, but also in Modified Pig Latin Sign Language, thanks to the MPLSL classes that had been offered in the Boy Scouts.

Carmen shook her head. “Either way, I’m pretty sure that thing would glow in the dark.”

Carlos chuckled. “That’s what I thought, too, when I first saw it.”

Cecil rolled his eyes, but the smile refused to leave his face as Carlos slipped his mittened hand into his.

“Andre! Hurry it up!” Carmen yelled into the living room. “Time’s a wastin’!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Andre said as he rushed into the foyer, running a hand through his hair.

“Here,” Carlos said, handing Cecil a pair of plum colored earmuffs as he put on his dark green cap, twisting his blue scarf around his neck. “These should keep you warm. Carmen’s car takes forever to heat up.”

“Only because she’s picky.” Carmen winked. “She only takes forever when Carlos is in the car.”

After Andre had successfully wiggled his way into his coat and boots, the four trudged out onto the front porch, Carmen calling a goodbye inside before shutting the door behind her. She slid into the front seat of her light blue Hyundai Sonata and started it, Andre sliding into the passenger, with Carlos and Cecil in the backseat. Christmas music blasted from the speakers, and she turned it down as she turned and carefully executed a three-point turn.

“Alright,” she said after a moment of silence as they began their trek down the long driveway, and Cecil was overcome with how beautiful the scenery was now that he could see it in the daylight. “I’d say this is a very delicate procedure. I have most of my shopping done for the kids, but I still need to get something for you,” she poked Andre in the arm, and he swatted at her hand good-naturedly. “And you, Cecil.” She looked in the rearview mirror. “Carlos is pretty cavalier about telling me what, exactly, it is you like, so I’ve devised a plan.”

“I have _not_ been cavalier, Carmen.” Carlos argued.

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it, I haven’t been able to weasel anything out of you, big brother.” She said. “So, here’s the plan. We have about three hours to kill before Mamá will expect us home for dinner, thus we will need to optimize our time. So I’ve decided that we should break into two teams. Carlos, you’re with me. Cecil, you and Andre need some bonding time, so I figured this would be as good a time as any. After an hour and a half, we’ll meet at the food court, where Carlos and Cecil will trade, meaning Cecil will come with me and Carlos and Andre will team up.” She smiled proudly as she brought the car to a rolling stop at a stop sign, beaming into the rearview mirror at her brother and his boyfriend. Carlos blinked.

“You’ve had this planned all day, haven’t you?” He asked.

Carmen shook her head. “Actually, I thought of that one on the fly.” She said.

“Impressive.” Andre said, nodding.

“ _Gracias._ ” She said. “Now, sound like a plan?”

“Seeing as I doubt we have any other option, I second it.” Andre said.

“Great!” Carmen made a quick left, steering them down the road towards a quaint downtown area, which, oddly enough, reminded Cecil of Old Town Night Vale with its little stores, including a barber shop with a rotating pole that reminded him of Telly. He glared at the pole as they passed, as though diverting some of his still pent-up hatred for the unfortunate Night Valean barber onto the innocent inanimate object. Carlos must have noticed his glare, because he reached out and took the broadcaster’s hand in his.

Finally, Carmen pulled the car into the parking lot of a moderately sized shopping mall. She quickly located a parking space, and killed the engine, turning around in her seat.

“Alright, ready?” She asked. “We’ll meet in the food court in an hour and a half, got it? Don’t be late?”

“Understood.” Cecil said, nodding. “Hour and a half, food court. We’ll be there.”

“Good!”

The four of them piled out of the little car, and Carlos gave Cecil a peck on the cheek.

“Text me if you get lost.” He whispered in his ear.

“Don’t worry about me.” Cecil promised. “I’ll be fine.”

Carmen grabbed Carlos’s arm and dragged him away from his boyfriend.

“Good luck, gentlemen!” She called to Andre and Cecil as she hurried Carlos along. “Happy shopping!”

Andre shook his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced at Cecil.

“So I can honestly say I haven’t gotten a thing for Carlos yet.” He said. “Any ideas?”

Cecil laughed. “Honestly, not a clue. I’m not sure the stores you have here in New York are exactly the same as the ones we have in Night Vale. I have a few things for Carlos already that I brought with me, but I might need some help with…” He trailed off, and swallowed before he continued. “José? Mostly?”

Andre smirked. “Yeah, Dad can be hard to buy for, especially when he’s not exactly the most personable person in the world.”

“We haven’t spoken much since Carlos and I arrived,” Cecil said as they began walking towards the mall. “But he doesn’t seem to have much to say to me.”

“Pretty sure it’s not you.” Andre assured him. “Like I said, not personable. The rest of the family already adores you.”

Cecil blushed. “I suppose that’s true…” he said quietly, not wanting to sound narcissistic.

“Hey.” Andre reached out and grasped Cecil’s shoulder. Cecil turned and looked the other man, who looked so much like Carlos, in the face. Andre’s brown eyes, so much more piercing than Carlos’s, yet just as soft and caring, peered into Cecil’s purple ones, and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Listen, Cecil. Don’t doubt that we care about you, okay? You make Carlos happy, and that’s all any of us could ever ask for. Life has never been decidedly easy for him, being who he is, and what he is, and ever since he moved to Night Vale, he’s so much happier, so much more confident and sure of who he is and where he stands in life, and I know we have you to thank for that. And the truth of the matter is, you may never win my dad’s approval. That’s just the reality of the situation. But who cares, even what the rest of the family things or feels, as long as _Carlos_ cares? He cares about you, and it’s obvious to me that you care about him a whole hell of a lot to put yourself in this kind of situation, what with my dad being a homophobe and all. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a member of this family now, and I’m going to treat you just as I would Carlos, or Carmen. So don’t worry about what Dad has to say, or what Dad’s opinion of you and what you and Carlos have. Okay?”

Cecil allowed Andre’s words to sink in, and he swallowed again, this time much more easily, and he felt some of the weight he didn’t even know he was carrying lift from his shoulders, his spirit and aura distinctively lighter. He smiled.

“Thank you, Andre.” He said. “That…that means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome.” Andre smiled. “Now, let’s get in there. The clock’s ticking, and if we’re even a minute late, Carmen will have our heads on a silver platter.”

Cecil gulped. Somehow, that did not sound pleasant.

 

...oOo...

 

Exactly one hour and twenty five minutes later, Cecil and Andre, breathing huge sighs of relief, dropped themselves into two of the large plush chairs in the middle of the food court sitting area, dropping the various bags beside them as they took in a much needed breath.

“Well.” Andre said after a moment, pushing himself into a slumped position. “I’d say we did some damage there!”

Cecil had to agree. In the short amount of time he and Andre had spent within the – incredibly normal, as far as shopping malls went, Cecil decided – mall, he had managed to knock off the mass majority of his list, except for Abuela, who Andre had promised would be easy to buy for, and that Carmen would undoubtedly help him in his selection process.

Five minutes later, the two were spotted by Carmen, who grinned as she neared them. Andre raised an eyebrow when it was realized that she was alone.

“Don’t tell me you lost our brother again.” He groaned playfully.

“Again?!” Carmen placed her hands on her hips dramatically. “I’ll have you know, big brother, that that was _one time,_ and _he_ lost _me_ , not the other way around!”

Cecil sniggered, and wondered vaguely if he and his brother had ever had squabbles like this. A dull pain stabbed at his heart as he thought about his lost memories of the boy – was he a man now? Was he even still alive? – that he had once called brother, and he quickly dispelled them, opting instead to wonder just what, exactly, had led to Carlos loosing Carmen.

A few moments later, Carlos came jogging into view, slightly out of breath as he did so. His hands and part of his forearms were completely covered in bags from various stores, boasting an array of colors and designs that sent Cecil spiraling into curiosity.

“Geez, Carmen, think you got enough there?!” Andre said, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, only half of those are mine!” Carmen said, grabbing Carlos’s left arm and raising it. “This arm is mine, the other is his. He offered to carry them and I took him up on it.”

“Carlos, you’re nuts.” Andre said, shaking his head.

Carlos shrugged. “Chivalry’s not dead.”

“Alright!” Carmen said, clapping her hands together once. “Time’s ticking! Time to play the old switcharoo!”

She reached out and grasped Cecil’s wrist, and began pulling him down the way with her, and he only just managed to grab his bags before she did so. As Carmen dragged him farther away, he heard his boyfriend call out,

“Hey, what about your bags?!”

“Just hold on to them for me, would you?” Carmen called back, winking conspiratorially at Cecil.

“ _Seriously?!_ ” Carlos cried indignantly, followed by Andre’s billowing laughter, and Cecil glanced over his shoulder to see him raise his bagged arms in agitation. “I know where you live, Carmen!”

“And I know where your naked baby pictures are!” Carmen sing-songed back loudly as she rounded the corner, finally slowing her pace. She looked at Cecil and gave him a mischievous grin. “Remind me to pass one or two of those along to you. For blackmailing purposes.”

Cecil grinned.

“So you still need to buy for Abuela?”             

Cecil nodded. “And maybe one more thing for Carlos?”

Carmen laughed. “Me, too.” She pointed to ahead of them as she linked her arm with his. “I think there’s a Discovery Store up there. And believe me, aside from ThinkGeek.com, if there’s any place to buy for Carlos, it’s the Discovery Store…”

 

...oOo...

 

Carlos gritted his teeth in frustration as he angled the flat of the scissors against the thin slip of ribbon, pulling against it, trying to get the damned thing to _freaking curl_. He winced as the scissors once again sliced into his finger instead, leaving the ribbon in a poor state of half-to-semi curled.

“Dammit.” He muttered, sucking on his finger as he laid down the scissors to reach for the piece of tissue paper nearest his ankle, which he pressed to the cut. “I cut myself _again._ ”

Cecil looked up from the package he was wrapping, and blinked sympathetically.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to wrap those for you?” He asked as he placed a strip of tape onto the box he had just finished – expertly, Carlos couldn’t help but note dryly – wrapping.

Carlos shook his head. “They invented these things called ‘gift bags’ for those as inept at wrapping things as me.”  He mumbled as he reached out and grabbed a piece of tape from the dispenser.

Cecil shrugged. “Suit yourself, dearest Carlos.” He went back to humming to himself as he set aside the package and reached for the next one, setting it down on the open wrapping paper. Carlos glanced over the rims of his glasses at the slightly blurry image of his boyfriend through the tendrils of dark hair that fell in his eyes. Where Cecil had learned to wrap so well, he would never know, and he was certain that if he asked, he would be met with an answer that he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront. He smiled to himself as he paused to watch Cecil’s long fingers expertly fold the shiny red wrapping paper over the expanse of the small box, and he wondered, vaguely, what was in the package. Cecil had been fairly enigmatic about the gifts he had chosen for each of the family, even the one he chose for José. The only clue he had been offered were the various colors of the discrete bags from the stores, any with store names or logos expertly hidden within the confines of a large felt bag from one of the kiosks around the mall. Cecil believed in the element of surprise.

Cecil must have sensed his stare, because he turned his head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Carlos ducked his head and averted his eyes, cursing the blush he felt spread across his cheeks. Six months dating the man and he _still_ blushed like he was in middle school and had gotten caught passing a note in class. Dammit.

He turned his attentions back to the box he was wrapping – a new camera for Andre – and tried hard to ignore the stinging cuts on his fingers and knuckles. He mentally reminded himself to raid the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for some Band Aids, praying that Mamá still kept a steady stock as she had when he had been growing up.

Carlos let out another frustrated sigh as he, once again, was unable to make a steady swipe as he tried to neatly fold the paper. He threw up his hands in exasperation, resigned to the fact that he, Carlos Ramirez, had a PhD, could recite the periodic table from memory, and spoke three languages fluently, but he could not manage to wrap a single box neatly to a somewhat acceptable degree.

“Here.” Cecil said suddenly, and he leant over what he was doing and laid his hands on top of Carlos’s. “Let me show you.”

Gently he guided Carlos’s hands over the paper, creasing down the wrinkled edges of the paper smoothly, placing each piece of tape with exact precision, as though he were performing delicate surgery. Carlos blinked and watched in intense fascination as Cecil’s hands moved his own, as though they were nothing more than a mere extension of himself, and snugly swaddled the package as though it were a newborn baby.

“There.” Cecil said as he let go and sat back, and the back of Carlos’s hands mourned the loss of the warm press of Cecil’s palms against their skin. Carlos gave a single chuckle, shaking his head.

“Thanks.” He said. “I’ve never been very good at this. When I was younger I used to wrap everyone’s gifts in tin foil because it always molded to whatever it was I was wrapping the way I wanted it to, and when I did finally graduate to actual paper, they were more tape than anything.”

Cecil smiled. “Well, then it’s a very good thing you have me to teach you, then, yes?”

Carlos nodded in agreement. “Very.”

“Let’s see you try it on your own now, then.” Cecil said, nodding at the box behind Carlos, which happened to be the very last thing he had left to wrap (a sweater for Carmen). Carlos reached behind him and grabbed it before he carefully measured out how much paper he’d need according to the gridlines, and cut along them. He then very slowly folded the paper as Cecil had showed him, smoothing down the creases with the heel of his palm as he did so before taping the first edge down onto the cardboard of the box. He repeated the motion with the other side, and the ends, before he finally placed the last piece of tape. He held up his – amazingly neat – success story.

“I can’t believe I did it.” He said as he grinned like a child presenting their parent with a macaroni diagram of a dinosaur.

Cecil chuckled and leant across the mess between them to stick a green adhesive bow to the middle of Carlos’s forehead, pecking him on the cheek.

“You’ve officially graduated.” He said.

Carlos smiled wider and reached a hand out to grasp some of the little bits of ribbon on the floor with the remnants of wrapping and tissue paper, sprinkling them onto Cecil’s blond hair like fairy dust in retaliation. Cecil rolled his eyes and shook the bits from his hair, but the grin on his face didn’t waver as he did so.

“So are we done, then?” Carlos asked as he peeled the bow from the skin of his forehead carefully.

“I believe so.” Cecil said, nodding. “I have nothing else to wrap, at least.”

“Good.” Carlos said, standing to his feet and brushing the confetti cocktail of paper and ribbon from his jeans, offering a hand to Cecil to help him up, which his boyfriend gladly accepted. “Then let’s get this mess cleaned up and these gifts under the tree.”

Cecil nodded, and helped to gather the pieces of paper and properly deposit them into the trash bag Carlos had brought with them into his old room so that they could wrap in peace, without the threat of prying eyes – especially those of the younger generation – trying to catch a glimpse of the contents. After every last piece had been successfully rounded up and placed in the bag, Carlos tied the corners and sat it next to the door.

The two then gathered the brightly colored gifts into their arms, teetering a bit, and slowly made their way into the living room.

Maria looked up from her book on the couch next to Ashley, and stood to her feet.

“ _Necesita ayuda?_ ” She asked.

 _“Sí, por favor!_ ” Carlos answered. “ _Muchas gracias, Mamá._ ”

Maria quickly took a few of Carlos’s packages and placed them beneath the tree as she knelt beside it, carefully arranging the gifts around the others. Carlos then helped Cecil to unload his armful, joining Maria on the floor.

“There!” Maria proclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Beautiful!”

Carlos helped his mother to stand, nodding in agreement. Now that the tree had been successfully decorated, and the presents had been bought and wrapped without any major fatalities to his fingerprints, it was finally, _finally_ beginning to feel more like Christmas.

Carlos turned to look at his boyfriend, only to find that Cecil had been dragged away by the twins to sit in the fort he had built for them earlier. Cecil’s tall, lanky frame meant that he had to hunch himself over in order to fit within the tight space, but the grin on his face as he picked up a crayon to color in one of Gracie’s coloring books resonated the fact that he hardly cared at all. With all the crouching in the fetal position he did during contract negotiations with Station Management back at NVCR, Carlos was hardly surprised.

With Cecil occupied, Carlos supposed it was time to start pestering his brother for more information on that unborn child of his…

 

...oOo...

“Carlos.”

Carlos groaned as he felt someone shaking his shoulder, blearily blinking open his eyes. He was still slumped into the corner of the couch nearest the kids’ fort, his cheek resting on his fist, his elbow on the arm of the couch. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, not bothering to remove his glasses to do so. He had only meant to close his eyes for a few minutes while he listened in on Cecil’s stories of Night Vale to the twins and Gracie, but he must have fallen asleep instead.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead!” Carmen crooned, grinning at him.

Carlos shook his head, and looked around the room.

“Where is everybody?” He asked, stretching out his arms and standing to his feet. “How long was I out?”

“A couple hours.” Carmen admitted. “Everyone else has gone to bed. I’m debating whether or not I should try to wrestle Gracie away from your boyfriend.”

Sure enough, when Carlos glanced down at the entrance of the blanket fort, he found Cecil laying there on the floor, just outside the entrance of the fort, one arm behind his head, the other wrapped around the little girl sleeping peacefully on his chest like a kitten, a small smile on her serene face. Inside the fort slept Donovan and Cody, curled against one another in the nest of pillows and blankets.

“I think you’ve been dethroned as the favorite uncle.” Carmen said playfully as she nudged Carlos with her shoulder.

Carlos smirked lightly as he nodded his head in agreement, gazing down at the placid scene of his niece curled comfortably against Cecil’s chest.

“Well, if I had to be dethroned, there’s no one I’d rather be dethroned by.” He said softly.

Carmen smiled before she crouched beside the sleeping form of Cecil, reaching out and untangling Gracie from beneath Cecil’s arm.

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty,” she whispered to her daughter as she stirred, her brow furrowing grumpily as she was pulled from her slumber. “Let’s get you home.”

Gracie shook her against her mother’s shoulder.

“Don’t wanna.” She whined. “Wanna stay here.”

“I know, but you’re staying here Christmas Eve with the boys, remember? We told Santa you’d be here in our letter. And I have to work tomorrow afternoon, so you can come here and play with Tío Carlos and Tío Cecil then, okay?”

Gracie nodded, and Carmen gently stroked her daughter’s curls before standing to her feet. Cecil hadn’t moved a bit from the sudden loss of the little girl against him, still snoring quietly. Carmen adjusted Gracie against her shoulder and grabbed her purse and Gracie’s coat from where they had been placed on the couch, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head at Cecil.

“Iiiiii’d leave him there if I were you.” She advised her older brother. “He seems pretty comfortable.”

Carlos chuckled. “He’s a heavy sleeper; he can sleep just about anywhere. I once found him taking a nap on his desk at the radio station.”

Carmen giggled. “Please tell me you have photographic evidence.”

Carlos shook his head. “My phone had decided to grow legs and run away from me that day.” He said.

Carmen swallowed, and Carlos suddenly realized what he had said.

“Carlos, those stories Cecil told the kids…” She said, slowly. “I get the impression that they aren’t just stories?”

Carlos sighed, and shook his head. “Some of them are.” He said. “But some are actually true. I wasn’t kidding when I said Night Vale is the Mecca of scientific inquiry.”

Carmen’s blue eyes fell to the man on the floor.

“Cecil, is he…?”

“He’s human, if that’s what you’re asking.” Carlos assured her. “Though sometimes I question the humanity of several of Night Vale’s residents. I question a lot of things nowadays.”

“But not him.” It wasn’t a question.

Carlos shook his head. “Never him.”

After a few moments of silence, Carmen nodded her head and smiled as she reached out her free hand and squeezed Carlos’s shoulder.

“Good.” She said. “If you don’t question him, then neither will I. But, I _do_ expect more stories about Night Vale. I found his fascinating. I want an outsider’s opinion.”

Carlos laughed. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He promised. “When you get out of work.”

“Deal!” Carmen said, and she nodded, sealing the deal. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have about forty pounds of deadweight currently drooling on my shoulder that I’d like to get into bed, so I’ll see you tomorrow, Carlos.”

Carlos walked her to the door, and made sure she made it safely to her car without slipping before he ventured back into the living room. He grabbed the Afghan blanket Abuela had knitted from the back of his father’s recliner and a pillow from the couch, gently slipping it beneath Cecil’s head before he spread the blanket over him.

“Goodnight, _querido._ ” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to Cecil’s forehead. “ _Te amo._ ”

In his sleep, Cecil smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the scene where Gracie falls asleep on Cecil's chest planned from the very beginning, because my personal headcanon is that Cecil is actually really great with kids, and kids love him. Because, c'mon, who wouldn't?! 
> 
> Fun Fact: I totally took Carlos's "wrap the gifts in tin foil" thing from my own life, for the very same reasons Carlos did. ;) I will also never forget one Christmas when my mom held up a present I had wrapped (in actual paper, thank you) and said, "Oh, this must be from Robin!" and when I asked her how she knew, she gave me a sympathetic look and said, "Sweetheart, it's mostly tape." Yeah. That quote still lives in infamy. 
> 
> \-----
> 
> Translations:  
> -Qué hermoso árbol!: "What a beautiful tree!"  
> -Gracias: "Thank you"  
> -Necesita ayuda: "Need help?"  
> -Sí, por favor: "Yes, please"  
> -Muchas gracias: "Thank you very much"
> 
> \-----
> 
> Carlos's coat, if anyone is interested:   
> http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/marc-new-york-by-andrew-marc-paxton-wool-blend-jacket/3343213?origin=category-personalizedsort&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=BLACK&resultback=9560&cm_sp=personalizedsort-_-browseresults-_-3_26_A


	9. I've got a Lime Green Parka to Keep Me Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is romantic stargazing, epic snowball fights, and José and Carlos have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet? Longest chapter yet. Fourteen pages, almost 9000 words long. Yeesh, I am invested!
> 
> A very particular part of this chapter took me FOUR DAYS to write. It was quite a challenge to get this chapter, in its entirety, to flow the way the rest of the story has, because up until now, it's been fluffy and full of kittens and rainbows, but now we're getting into the thick of things, and the climax of the story is nigh! So getting this chapter to lead where it needed to go was hard, but, I managed! :D 
> 
> That being said, I hope you're prepared, dear listeners, because it's about to get angsty fast!!! Prepare for impact!!! 
> 
> I hope this chapter is as enjoyed as the rest of the story has been! 
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Battleships" by Daughtry (high recommend listening to this while reading! It's what helped me channel it!)

 

The first thing he was acutely aware of when he came to was the smell of chocolate, and that his left arm was asleep.

Cecil groaned as he sat up and stretched, flexing his fingers in an effort to reanimate them, wincing slightly at the pins and needles that shot through the phalanges as he did so. He looked around the blurry room – his glasses were gone; where were they? – and was startled to find that he was on the floor of the living room next to the blanket fort, where Donovan and Cody still slept peacefully, Donovan’s arm across the forehead of his twin. The room was dark, except for the soft glow of the lights on the tree, and he noticed with a start that there was a pillow where his head had been, a knitted blanket thrown over his body lovingly.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, wondering what time it was. Without his glasses, he couldn’t read the hands of the grandfather clock in the corner, but judging from the inky darkness outside the window, it was still fairly early in the morning, or late at night.

Very slowly he extracted himself from beneath the blanket so as to not make enough noise to rouse the twins, and made his way towards the enticing aroma of chocolate emanating from the kitchen.

At the kitchen counter next to the sink stood Carlos, clad in his usual plaid pajama bottoms and white t-shirt that he slept in, and Cecil realized with a start that he was still dressed in his purple jeans and cactus sweater. Carlos’s back was to Cecil, so he didn’t notice as the broadcaster entered, continuing on with whatever he was doing at the counter as he hummed quietly to himself.

“Carlos?” He asked quietly as he ventured into the kitchen.

Carlos glanced over his shoulder at Cecil, and smiled when he saw him.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” He said. “I was going to come and wake you up in a few minutes anyway.”

“What time is it?” Cecil asked as he rubbed his right eye. “Why was I asleep on the floor?”

Carlos shrugged. “You fell asleep with the kids telling them stories.” He explained. “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Cecil smiled, still somewhat sleepily, as he crossed the room to hug his arms around Carlos’s middle.

“While that was very sweet, I think I would much rather be in my pajamas right now.” He said. “And in a soft bed with a warm boyfriend to cuddle up to instead of a cold, lonely floor.”

Carlos chuckled as he placed a small kiss to Cecil’s temple.

“In a few minutes, I promise.” He said. “But I have something to show you first.”

Cecil cocked an eyebrow, and Carlos grinned as he handed him a steaming mug of hot chocolate – the source of the delicious smell wafting throughout the house.

“Come on,” Carlos said. “Follow me.”

He led Cecil to the front door, where he handed him his parka, earmuffs, scarf, and gloves. He held the steaming mug of hot chocolate as Cecil obediently slipped into the warm gear before he did the same, shoving the bottom of his pajama pants into his boots.

“Let’s go.” He whispered, and opened the front door quietly. He guided Cecil out onto the porch, and from there into the snow-laden yard.

“Look up.” He said, pointing.

Cecil shook his head. “I can’t see anything, dearest Carlos. My glasses are still somewhere in the house.”

“Oh! Here,” Carlos reached into his coat pocket and produced Cecil’s purple rimmed glasses. “I have them.”

Cecil gratefully slipped them onto his nose, and allowed his vision to focus before he turned his gaze upwards towards the sky where Carlos was pointing.

Above him, the sky was crystal clear, and the stars shone brightly from the dark velvety pillow of space. And while the stars themselves, twinkling like jewels, were stunning in and of themselves, what caught Cecil’s attention were the streaks of white and blue as they shot across the unfamiliar constellations.

“Oh!” He said as a particularly large one streaked by, turning orange for a brief moment. Beside him, Carlos grinned as he took a sip of hot chocolate. Another shooting star crossed what Cecil recognized as the constellation of Orion; even with the sky at home in Night Vale being only partially stars (mostly void), he still managed to recognize that one. “Carlos, look! The stars are falling!”

Carlos chuckled. “They’re actually meteors, not stars.” He explained. “Chunks of rock meeting the atmosphere. Stars are made up of dust and gases.”

“It’s beautiful, no matter their composition.” Cecil breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the glittering sky as the meteors fell like the streamers of a firework.

“I read there was going to be a meteor shower a few weeks back,” Carlos said. “And I knew I wouldn’t be able to see it back home, but I knew we’d have an optimal view from here, away from any lights, though if Night Vale had a complete sky, you’d be able to see much better from there. I was actually pretty excited when I realized we’d be here when it happened.”

Cecil reached out a hand and grasped Carlos’s free one, squeezing it tightly, wishing Carlos wasn’t wearing mittens so he could thread their fingers together.

“I used to do this all the time,” Carlos said as his brown eyes roved across the raining sky. “When I was younger, I used to climb on the roof in the summer and stargaze until the sun came up. I bought a telescope with some money I saved mowing lawns when I was fourteen, and I used to catalog the movement of the planets and constellations.”

Cecil smiled. “You’re so smart, Carlos.” He whispered, leaning his head against Carlos’s shoulder. He remembered the mug of hot chocolate in his hands and quickly took a sip, relishing in the warmth that spread from his lips to his toes as the liquid came in contact with his tongue.

“I miss the stars sometimes.” Carlos admitted. “Not that the void isn’t fascinating – because how can it honestly exist? I’m still trying to gather data on it, but my readings keep coming out of the printer as Billy Joel song lyrics – but…these are the stars I grew up with, my whole life, before coming to Night Vale, and I miss it sometimes, you know?”

“Do you miss it here?” Cecil asked. Carlos turned his head to look at him, and Cecil gestured around him. “Your home. The world outside of Night Vale, I mean?”

Carlos paused for a moment before he answered, “Sometimes. But usually only when the science becomes too jumbled and inconclusive to exist, because then I get frustrated. But…I like it in Night Vale.” He removed his hand from Cecil’s and slipped his arm around the other man instead. “And I have you. Wherever you are, I’ll be.”

Cecil felt his heart do the strange little somersault in his chest it always did when Carlos said something like that; whenever he smiled playfully; whenever he kissed the sensitive spot between Cecil’s shoulder blades; whenever he showed up unexpected at the radio station during Cecil’s breaks, or the weather, with take out or just to say hello; whenever he mustered up enough air to gasp ‘I love you’ whenever they made love, and he felt his entire body begin to tingle happily, despite the absence of movement from his tattoos.  

He wasn’t sure how long the two of them stood there, in the front lawn, looking up at the meteor shower above, but after a while, the remaining hot chocolate in Cecil’s mug grew lukewarm, and his neck began to ache from craning it for so long. Still, despite the chill that was beginning to seep into his shoes and the thin felt of his gloves, Cecil was content.

He yawned, quite involuntarily, and pulled himself closer to Carlos as he shivered.

“Ready to go in?” Carlos asked.

Cecil nodded, the sleep heavy in his eyes. “Yes, please.” He said quietly.

“Come on, then,” Carlos said. “Let’s get to bed.”

“That sounds…nice.” Cecil said as he yawned again, and the two made their way back onto the front porch, Carlos’s arm never leaving Cecil’s waist as they did so.

After stomping off their shoes and replacing their coats on the hooks by the door, Carlos deposited their mugs into the kitchen sink before the two made their way down the hall back into Carlos’s room. Cecil wasted no time taking off his sweater and jeans and shimmying into the sweatpants and flannel shirt. He was too tired to even stumble down the hall to brush his teeth, opting instead to faceplant into his pillow. Carlos closed the door and switched off the lamp before he, too, climbed into the bed beside his boyfriend.

He pulled Cecil close to his chest, and for the thousandth time, Cecil marveled at how well the two of them fit together, like puzzle pieces, as Carlos tucked his head beneath his chin, despite Cecil only being a few inches shorter than he was.

“ _Te amo, querido._ ” Carlos whispered as he gave a contented sigh, pressing his lips to Cecil’s forehead.

“I love you, too.” Cecil whispered back, and nestled in closer, warm and loved, against Carlos’s chest. “Goodnight.”

 

...oOo...

 

The next morning, they were both drawn from their peaceful dreams – Cecil of cats, and Carlos of Erlenmeyer flasks – by a gentle but loud knock on the door.

“Boys!” The voice of Maria came through the wood of the door. “ _Hora de despertar!_ ”

“ _Cinco minutos más,_ Mamá _.”_ Carlos groaned, turning over to face away from Cecil, burying his face in his pillow.

“Breakfast is almost done!” Maria said. “We’re all waiting on you!” There was the sound of footsteps padding back down the hallway, indicating Maria’s departure.

 Carlos groaned again, knowing from experience that if Maria had to come back to get the two of them up again, she’d bring cold water with her. He rolled over to face Cecil, whose back was to him, and propped himself up on one elbow before reaching out towards his boyfriend and shook his shoulder.

“Cecil. Wake up.” He said.

Cecil grunted softly and waved his hand, as though swatting a fly. Carlos shook harder.

“C’mon, Cecil, wake up. If Mamá comes back, she’ll dump water on the both of us.” He said as he dropped his head against Cecil’s shoulder sleepily. “Trust me, it’s _not_ fun.”

Cecil grumbled something that Carlos didn’t catch before he finally moved, sitting up to stretch and grope for his glasses on the bedside table, pushing them onto his face and letting his hands fall against the quilt, closing his eyes sleepily.

“Morning, beautiful.” Carlos mumbled good-naturedly as he kissed Cecil’s nose, taking note of Cecil’s heavily disheveled blond hair as it stuck out at all angles, practically defying gravity, even in a world where the laws of physics were followed. No matter how many times he woke up next to the radio host, he still couldn’t get over the dynamics of his hair some days.

Cecil grumbled in reply in a language Carlos didn’t understand – probably Modified Sumarian – and squinted against the sunlight filtering in through the blinds of the window.

“I’m going to pretend I understood that.” Carlos said as he himself stretched, arching his back, sighing in relief as it popped several times. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough that I don’t want to get up.” Cecil answered, yawning.

“I’m sure there’s coffee waiting in the kitchen.” Carlos assured him as he swung his legs out from underneath the blanket, grabbing his sweatshirt and slipping it over his head.

“Coffee sounds wonderful.” Cecil agreed as he followed his boyfriend. He grabbed Carlos’s hand as he reached for the doorknob, squeezing it tightly. “The meteor shower last night was beautiful.”

Carlos smiled. “I knew you’d enjoy it.” He said. “Now come on; we may be up, but I don’t think that’ll stop Mamá from drenching us if we don’t get our butts to the breakfast table.”

Cecil laughed, but the serious undertone of Carlos’s tenor made him speculate as to the likelihood of such an action. He decided he didn’t want to find out.

As they made their way down the hall, they were greeted enthusiastically by Max, who bound up to them, his tail wagging, and thrust his nose into the palm of Carlos’s free hand, demanding to be petted. Carlos patted the dog on the head as they passed, and Cecil did the same, and Max trotted back to his bed in the corner contentedly, curling into a large ball and watching them with big, observant eyes as they walked into the kitchen.

“It’s about time!” Carmen joked as they sat themselves down into the two empty chairs. “I thought we were going to have to sic the kids on you two!”

Carlos rolled his eyes at his sister. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I’d dare.” Carmen assured him as she took a long sip from her glass of orange juice.

“Tío Carlos! Tío Carlos!” Gracie practically bounced in her seat as she vied for the attention of her uncle. “Tío Andre said he’d take us sledding this afternoon!”

“Sledding, huh?” Carlos smiled at his niece affectionately. “Sounds dangerous. Don’t think I trust you behind the wheel of a sled just yet, there, Gracie.”

Gracie glared. “I am perfectly capable of sledding!” She said, crossing her little arms, and Carlos saw so much of his sister in the little girl, he almost laughed. “Mommy even said so!”

Carmen nodded, blotting at a spot of orange juice on her red scrubs. “She’s pretty good at it, actually. She rarely crashes anymore.”

“Dad also said he’d help us build a snow fort!” Cody said from his spot next to Ashley. He looked at Cecil. “We told him you helped us build the blanket fort in the living room. Will you help us?”

“I’ve never built a snow fort before, but I’ve built plenty of sand forts before.” Cecil said as he buttered a piece of toast. He grinned at the boy. “I’m sure I can help.”

Cody pumped the air. “Yessss!” He high-fived Donovan, and Ashley gave them a pointed look when they almost spilled their milk.

After breakfast was eaten without any major mishaps, Carmen quickly rinsed her dish before she planted a quick kiss to the top of Gracie’s curls before she rushed out the door to head into work. José quietly made his way into the living room, where he turned on the television, and sat in his chair while the kids scurried into their blanket fort for conspiring, Ashley sat down on the couch with a book, Cecil helped Maria with the dishes, and Andre and Carlos engaged in a brawl to see who got to use the shower first. In the end, Andre won, and Carlos was left to sulk to his own devices.

As he leaned against the wall of the hallway, his bag of toiletries in hand and a towel slung over his arm, Carlos surveyed the scene in the living room with a content smile as his boyfriend’s baritone carried from the kitchen as he and Maria swapped stories – about him, he had no doubt – and laughed while finishing up with the cleaning.

All in all, he guessed he could consider the trip so far a success.

 

...oOo...

 

When Carlos finally emerged from the bathroom, fully bathed – Andre had not left any warm water, and he’d been forced to take a lukewarm/cold dunk – he returned to the bedroom to change for the day, finding Cecil still clad in his sweatpants and flannel, spread out horizontally across the bed, his head hanging over the edge, his feet propped against the wall, the handheld voice recorder he had brought to document his travels for Dana in his hand.

“The trip has been wonderful so far,” Cecil narrated, his Radio Voice spilling out effortlessly, “Carlos’s family is so…well, _neat_! His mother is wonderful, as are his siblings, and his niece and twin nephews are an absolute joy to entertain.” He noticed Carlos walk in, and grinned, waving excitedly. “I still have yet to meet his grandmother, but she won’t be arriving until tomorrow afternoon, but I have no doubt we’ll get along wonderfully.”

Carlos swallowed. He had almost forgotten about Abuela’s arrival tomorrow, and how, exactly, he was going to introduce her to Cecil. He could feel the nervous butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach again, and he quickly dispelled them as he walked over and pulled out a change of clothes from the dresser.

“The twins have requested my assistance in building a snow fort outside,” Cecil continued, placing a hand behind his head. “It will be interesting to see how well I’m able to construct such a structure, and one I plan to enjoy, no matter the outcome! For now, dear Dana, I bid thee adieu. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

He clicked the red button on the side of the recorder, and laid it down on the bed next to him as he swung himself around and sat up, grinning at Carlos as he did so. Carlos pulled the clean plain grey sweatshirt over his “I ♥ Science” t-shirt Cecil had gotten him as a gift for their four month anniversary and evened out the pockets of his well-worn jeans.

“There’s no warm water left, just so you know.” Carlos advised. “Andre used it all. I didn’t even get a drop.”

Cecil chuckled, but he said nothing as he crossed the room to envelope Carlos in a hug.

“So.” Carlos said after a moment, pulling back to give his boyfriend a lopsided grin. “Snow fort, huh? Are you _sure_ you’re up to that one?”

Cecil grinned. “Of course!” He said. “Honestly, it can’t be _that_ difficult, dearest Carlos.”

Carlos kissed his nose. “I’ll let you believe that.” He said. He pulled away from his boyfriend’s embrace and turned towards the desk in the corner, where his laptop rested. He sat down in the chair and opened the computer, allowing it to connect to the spotty wifi before opening Skype.

“What are you doing?” Cecil asked, coming up behind him as he clicked on the name of his lab assistant, Jason.

“Calling the lab, just to make sure they haven’t blown up the place in my absence.” Carlos answered.

“Why don’t you just call them?” Cecil quirked an eyebrow, and waved his phone.

Carlos laughed and turned in the chair, his arm resting on the back. “Are you kidding? They’re smart, and I’d trust them with my life, but do I think for a moment they’d tell me the truth if something actually happened?” He shook his head. “Not a chance. I want live-feed evidence that everything is still standing.”

He clicked the button to start the video call, and after a few seconds, a window popped open, and Jason’s face appeared, his lab goggles positioned on his forehead. He grinned as Carlos’s face came into view in the tiny window to the right.

“Heeeey, Carlos!” Jason greeted.

“Hey, Jason.” Carlos said in reply, grinning at his colleague. “How’s it going?”

“Aside from being broiling hot, as usual? Pretty well.” Jason answered. “You look well rested. Younger. Like that grey is starting to recede back into your head.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny.” He said. “Have you got any results back from that test I told you guys to run on the mold Yvette found growing on the butter in her fridge?”

Jason shook his head. “Still working on it.” He said. “Every time we try to get near it with a syringe to take a sample, it hisses at us and tries to bite the needle.”

“Ooooooh that sounds like Butter Mold!” Cecil said as he leaned over Carlos’s shoulder to grin at Jason, who nodded at him in hello. “It doesn’t like metal! If you use a plastic needle or a wooden one, it’s much more likely to comply. It’s harmless, I assure you. I’ve had several cases of Butter Mold in my own fridge before, and once they finish the stick, they move on until another one mores in.”

“A wooden needle?” Jason raised a bushy eyebrow. “And where, pray tell, am I going to find one of those?”

“Teddy Williams may have a few extra in his supplies, if you ask him.” Cecil answered. “He tries to keep at least one handy in case someone with a stainless steel allergy comes in for their tetanus-and-rust-related-possession vaccines.”

Jason laughed. “I’ll give him a call, Cecil, thanks.”

Cecil beamed. His attention was stolen, however, by his phone ringing, and he stepped away from the Skype call with a goodbye to Jason and a quick peck on the cheek to Carlos, who blushed when he saw Jason give him a teasing look.

“So. How’s New York treating you? I see you haven’t frozen to death yet.” Jason said after Cecil stepped out of the room into the hallway.

“That’s funny, coming from you, seeing as you grew up in Juneau.” Carlos said. “As for the trip, so far it’s been great. Cecil’s been getting along really well with my family, especially the kids. They practically worship the ground he walks on.”

“Did you have any doubt?”

Carlos smirked. “No. I knew they’d love him as much as I do.” He sighed. “My dad’s been a bit distant, though, and Cecil still has yet to meet my grandmother.”

Jason winced. “You told me your dad’s homophobic.” He said sympathetically. “Has he said anything to you or Cecil?”

Carlos shook his head. “No, not a word.” He said. “Which is what worries me. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before he blows his fuse. I don’t want Cecil to have to go through that.”

“You can’t protect him forever, Carlos.” Jason said.

“I know.” Carlos said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We ran into some kids at the airport who had some colorful colloquiums and a soda can to throw our way. He took it well, considering he’s never experienced homophobia before.”

“Cecil’s the most adaptable human being I’ve ever met.” Jason said. “But I guess growing up in Night Vale would make anyone pretty flexible.” He paused a second. “Wait, they threw a soda can at you?!”

Carlos nodded.

“ _Please_ tell me you kicked their little adolescent asses!”

“I opted for the ‘get out as quickly as possible’ route, thank you.” Carlos said, raising an eyebrow. “But believe me, I felt like it.”

Jason shook his head. “You have more patience than I, my friend.”

Carlos grinned. “Which is why _I’m_ the one that handles the time conducive experiments and _you_ focus on the ones that require more internet based research.”

“I’ll take that.” Jason laughed. “Hey, Marci’s calling from the other room. I think she has something she wants me to see.”

“Tell her hi for me. Gavin and Tess, too.” Carlos nodded.

“Will do, boss.” Jason gave a mock salute, putting his goggles back over his eyes. “Stay warm there! Merry Christmas!”

“You too! And Happy Kwanzaa!”

“Hey, thanks.” Jason said, smiling. “Over and out.”

He formed his fingers into the Vulcan V, and Carlos returned it before the call ended.

 _Well,_ he thought. _At least the lab is still standing!_

He got up from the chair and was pushing it back towards the desk as Cecil walked back into the room, a grim expression on his face.

“Everything okay?” Carlos questioned. Cecil shook his head.

“That was Dana. Intern Franz entered the pocket dimension that opened in the drain of the men’s bathroom in an attempt to retrieve his missing pinky toe, only to be swallowed completely before the dimension closed and sealed itself off. I asked Dana to air the proper memorial in my absence.”

Carlos winced. “I’m sorry, Cec.” He said.

 _What is it with those bathrooms?! First the floating cat, then Intern Silas switching hands, and now this?! Note to self: in the event of having to use the bathroom while visiting the station, **hold it**. _ He thought. 

Cecil shrugged. “He knew the job was dangerous when he took it.” He said nonchalantly. “Still, he was a good intern, and he will be sorely missed.”

Carlos shook his head and kissed Cecil’s forehead.

“You’d better get ready if you want to build a fort with the twins.” He said as he pulled away. “I think I have some old snow pants around here somewhere you can borrow, if you want.”

Cecil shrugged. “I think I’ll be alright.” He said. He kissed Carlos’s jaw. “Are you sure  you don’t want to come sledding with us?” He pouted slightly, giving Carlos the biggest puppy dog eyes he could manage.

Carlos sighed. “Oh alright.” He conceded, and Cecil grinned excitedly. “But if I wipe out, you’re not allowed to laugh.”

Cecil laughed, a mischievous glint in his purple eyes. “I make no such promises, dearest Carlos.”

 

...oOo...

 

Two hours, two sledding wipe outs, four unintentional losses of footing (thus resulting in four tumbles down the hill), a rather large and impressive snow fort, and ten numb toes later, Carlos couldn’t help but shake his head and grin as his boyfriend formed yet another snowcube and sent it flying in the direction of Donovan and Cody’s fort on the other side of the backyard, just barely missing Donovan’s shoulder as the boy quickly ducked behind the wall of the fortress, giving a cry of triumph as he did so.

“I told you they’d give you a run for your money,” Carlos said as he formed a snowball to throw at the boys. “They’re strategists!”

Cecil rose onto his knees, another snowcube in hand, and Carlos went to rise with him, only to have Cecil drag him back downwards to the ground as snowballs pelted at the wall of their own fort, which was positioned strategically so that Carlos and Cecil’s backs were to the house, aiding in their cover.

“Those, dearest Carlos, were aimed for your head.” His boyfriend informed him as he stealthily peered over the wall.

“Thanks?” Carlos brushed snow from his jacket. It was beginning to snow rather heavily, reducing their nearsighted visibility, and his glasses were beginning to get foggy from his breath as he tucked his chin against his chest and rubbed his mittened hands together.

Cecil was taking this entirely too seriously.

“We need a better strategy.” Cecil said as he slumped back down next to Carlos, his lime green coat far too bright against the stark white of the snow. It made Carlos’s eyes hurt. “Our current plan of action is obviously not gaining us the upper hand.”

“Tíííííííoooooos!” They heard Gracie singsong cheerfully from the other side of the yard. “Give up yet?”

Cecil gave Carlos an impish grin, and Carlos suddenly knew, without having to ask, their newest plan. Carlos, unable to help it, grinned back, and grabbed a snowball before the two of them rose onto their knees.

“Not a chance, kiddos!” Carlos called as he raised his arm and let the snowball fly. It hit near Cody’s shoulder, and Cody threw a snowball back in retaliation, laughing as it hit Carlos square in the chest. Unfazed, Carlos gathered more snow, and flung it. He dared a glimpse out of the corner of his eye at Cecil, who had ducked back down behind the wall and had a small pyramid about two feet high of snowcubes. It registered vaguely in the back of his mind that Cecil had somehow managed to form not only almost perfect snowcubes and stacked them in a geometrically proportional pyramid, but that he had also done so in less than a minute. Carlos elected not to question, writing it off as yet another one of Cecil’s many idiosyncrasies, it as he felt a snowball hit him in the head, and he cursed himself for his distraction.

 “Ha! Headshot!” Donovan called triumphantly.

“Alright, troops!” Gracie called from her place to the side of the wall. “Gather your weapons!”

 _“Crap!_ ” Carlos muttered as he ducked down next to Cecil. “They’re about to charge!”

Cecil grinned.

“And we’re prepared.” He passed a snowcube into Carlos’s hand.

Before Carlos could say anything – or contemplate the fact that snow _balls_ provided much more aerodynamic force than snow _cubes_ – Gracie’s shrill battle cry filled the air.

“ATTACK!”

Cecil’s lips were on Carlos’s in a rush of adrenaline, hands gripping the lapels of his black coat, and Carlos blinked in surprise as Cecil pulled away. 

“In case we don’t make it through this,” Cecil explained. “I just wanted you to know.”

Carlos gave him a crooked grin, despite the seriousness in Cecil’s voice. “Dually noted.”

Then, amidst the flurry of the snow falling around them, it began to rain snowballs.

...oOo...

 

Inside the house, José peered out the window from the living room into the backyard at his grandchildren and son, and that… _man_ his middle child called his boyfriend. He held a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, and he sipped it slowly as he watched Carlos’s boyfriend hastily make what appeared to be small blocks out of the snow on the ground around them. Carlos was grinning, ear to ear, as the two of them exchanged a glance before rising onto their knees to throw their snowballs – cubes? – at the kids across the yard.

José watched in stoic silence until he felt a presence behind him, and he turned to see Maria, smiling as she came to stand beside him, gazing out the window at the spectacle before them.

“What fun!” She said. “Who’s winning?”

José shrugged. “Hard to tell.” He said. “But I believe the kids are giving them a run for their money.”

Maria chuckled, and they watched in silence as the snowball fight continued, the snowballs flying, sometimes hitting their intended targets, and sometimes not. There was a shout from the other side of the yard as Gracie jumped out from behind the wall of their fortress, obviously taunting her uncle and his…companion.

Then the eccentric blond grabbed Carlos by the lapels of his coat, and pulled him close, mashing their lips together hastily, as though he thought they were in a damned romantic comedy. José felt his face grow hot, his nerves fray, and his blood pressure begin to steadily rise at the sight.

What was worse, Carlos seemed to enjoy it, giving the man a coy grin as they pulled apart.

Maria gave a small, contented sigh.

“He looks so happy, our Carlos.” She said quietly. It was hard to miss the tenderness in her voice, especially after having been married to her for almost forty years.

José _humphed._ “He could be happy with a woman, if he tried.”

Maria turned to look at him, and she shook her head, the motherly sparkle in her eyes gone, replaced instead with a sad sort of nostalgia that José couldn’t quite place.

“I don’t think he could, _mi amor._ ” She whispered.

“He _could_.” José insisted, his voice edged. “He isn’t _trying,_ Maria! He insists upon flaunting this in our faces, as though his sin is something to be proud of!”

“It is not a sin to love someone.” Maria said sharply, her eyes piercing.

“Carlos does not love him!” José said, narrowing his eyes at his wife. “He is simply in a state of infatuation and nothing more.”

“How can you say that?!” Maria demanded. She gestured towards the yard, where Carlos and Cecil had charged into the space between the forts, and were currently being dog-piled upon by the boys and Gracie, who had climbed to the top of the pyramid like a cheerleader. “How can you see the way he looks at Cecil and say that he is not in love with him?!”

“Carlos is _confused._ ” José said. “We should never have allowed it to progress this far! We should have stamped this out when he was a teenager, tried to correct his sinful ways, and perhaps he would not be as convinced as he is that what he is doing is acceptable!”

“José Mateo Ramirez!” Maria scolded. “I can’t believe you! That is your _son_ you’re speaking of!”

“And as his father, it’s my duty to set him on the right path! And by allowing him to continue this sinful behavior, I am failing him!”

Maria shook her head, angrily. “Carlos is a grown man, José.” She reminded him, none too gently. “He can make his own decisions, and he’s chosen Cecil. You can’t change the heart, _mi amor._ Remember that.”

José bit the inside of his cheek, unwilling to press the issue any further with his wife. Maria must have sensed this, because she shook her head one last time before she gently reached out a hand to touch her husband on the cheek.

“Carlos is _happy,_ José. He’s happy, and that’s all that we as his parents could have ever asked for.”

José shook his head. “We raised him to be godly, and to honor us, as we honored our parents. He is not doing that by doing as he is.”

“Have you even spoken to Cecil?” Maria questioned, lowering her hand to her hip. “More than once? Have you even thought to give that poor boy a _chance,_ José? He traveled all this way, left his home, to spend Christmas with us, to get to know us, and you’ve done little more than pushed him under the bus with your own narrow view! Carlos would never have brought him if he didn’t truly care for him! Couldn’t you just _try_ and give Cecil the benefit of the doubt? He’s polite, and intelligent, and the kids adore him! Shouldn’t that give you reason enough to give him a chance?”

José swallowed and clenched his jaw, but said nothing.

Maria sighed and turned to walk away.

“I’m going to make lunch.” She said quietly. She paused, turning back to look at her husband. “I fear for our family, José. If you are not careful, you could lose Carlos. Because I promise you, he will not hesitate to choose Cecil. And I…I would not blame him.”

With that, she turned her back on José, and walked back into the kitchen, where she turned on the radio to the nearest Christmas station, and cheerful carols waltzed through the house.

José growled under his breath, and turned his attention back outside. He noted how heavily it had begun to snow, and glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Perhaps it was time he call the children in, before they caught their deaths of cold…

As he watched, he saw that the kids had climbed off of Carlos and the other man, and Cody had tackled Donovan to the snow, where they were wrestling. Gracie was seemingly edging them on by jumping up and down and yelling what sounded like “You call that a _wrestle?!_ ” and José couldn’t help but chuckle; his granddaughter was most definitely her mother’s daughter.

Carlos had stood to his feet, and he held out his hand to help Cecil do the same. As he hoisted the blond man to his feet, he quickly pulled him flush against his chest, and kissed him. The kids stopped what they were doing and watched, and he saw the boys grin, and heard Gracie give a small squeal of delight, along with a long, drawn out, “Awwwwwwwwwwww,” before launching into the age-old “Carlos and Cecil, sitting in a tree…” nursery rhyme.

José gritted his teeth, and he felt the by now familiar anger begin to creep back from the depths of his bones, and he turned away from the scene.

This had gone on for long enough.

 

...oOo...

 

Carlos pulled away from Cecil and grinned as Cecil’s breath tickled his numb nose. Cecil’s purple eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm from the day’s events so far, and from the rush of adrenaline the snowball fight had left in its wake.

“Carlos and Cecil, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Gracie sang, and both men blushed as they averted their eyes away from one another, but kept their holds on the others’ arms.

“First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes…” Gracie’s brow furrowed. “Wait…then comes, uh…”

“Building a fort?” Cody quipped.

“Not blowing up gingerbread?” Donovan added, grinning.

“Telling stories?”

“Buying a house?”

“Buying a car?”

“Getting a dog?”

“Going on vacation?”

Carlos shook his head, and let go of Cecil to grab Gracie and fling her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“How about tickling a Gracie until she stops?” He teased as Gracie squealed and flailed her little fists against Carlos’s back as her uncle laughed.

“Tío Carlos, you put me down _right now_!” Gracie demanded between giggles.

“Are you going to keep singing that song?” Carlos questioned.

“Yes!”

“Then nope!” He raised his free hand and took off his mitten with his teeth before tickling the little girl’s sides as she screamed and kicked, narrowly missing his head several times as she squirmed.

“Tío Carlos! Tío Carlos! Stop!” She laughed. “I promise I’ll stop!”

“Say ‘uncle’!”

“I did!” She protested.

“She has a point, dearest Carlos.” Cecil agreed, nodding his head. “She _did_ say uncle, though she said it in Spanish…”

“Fine.” Carlos said, and he gently lowered the little girl back onto the ground. “You win this round, Gracie Girl.”

Gracie stuck out her tongue, but giggled again as Carlos stuck his out in retaliation.

There was the sound of a door opening, and everyone turned to find José standing in the frame of the back door.

“ _Niños, es hora de entrar!”_ He called.

“Awwww!” Cody and Donovan protested together, their faces falling.

“ _Cinco minutos más, por favor, Abuelo?_ ” Gracie piped, sticking out her bottom lip in the classic pout that usually had her grandfather wrapped around her finger.

José gave the little girl a small smile.

“Alright, five more minutes.” He said. “But then it’s inside to warm up!”

“ _Gracias,_ Abuelo!” Donovan said, and he quickly stooped to pick up another snowball.

“Carlos!” José called, and Carlos turned to look back at his father. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Uhh, sure.” Carlos said. He looked at Cecil, whose arm had been captured by Gracie, who was attempting to drag him behind the wall that had acted as their fort as the boys ran for the other one. “You okay out here?”

Cecil waved his free hand. “Of course! Go see what your father needs. It sounds important.”

Carlos nodded, and pecked Cecil on the cheek.

“Don’t let them sacrifice you to any snowmen while I’m gone!” He joked.

Cecil laughed. “I won’t!”

Carlos gave him a nod as he turned and walked towards the house, stepping inside. He sighed deeply as the warmth returned quite suddenly to his chilled body, and his glasses immediately fogged up. He took them off and wiped them on the hem of his shirt as he removed his coat and hung it up on the coat tree next to the door before removing his boots.

He followed José down the hall, past his and Cecil’s room, into his parents’ room. José edged the door closed until it was open only about two inches before he turned back to his son, crossing his arms.

“Carlito, this has to stop.”

Instantly, as though he had very suddenly been punched in the face with a brick wall, Carlos felt the euphoria from the excitement outside and the last few days – _they’d been going to well!_ – melt into the pit of his stomach. He knew, all too well, what José was about to say, and he felt his palms twitch as though trying to form fists, but he kept them firmly planted at his sides, and he swallowed thickly against the bile at the back of his throat.

“What do you mean?”

“You know very well what I mean!” José said vehemently. “This sin you’re committing must stop, Carlito! It is ungodly!”

Carlos frowned. “Sin?”

He spoke evenly, but he could feel his throat parch.

_This was not how it was supposed to go. This was **not** how it was supposed to go! _

José nodded.

“You are thirty years old, Carlos. It’s time for you to let go of this… _phase_ you’re going through, find a good woman, and settle down, raise a family.”

Carlos felt his face flush as he forced back the anger that was beginning to become acidic in his gut.

He had been afraid of this. He should have known it was only a matter of time before José had had enough, before his fuse blew; of course, why had he expected any less?

But everything had been going so well, he had allowed himself to believe, if only for a short moment, that perhaps he had been wrong, that his father could learn to accept him and Cecil after all; he had allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, all of this could be avoided.

Apparently not.

“A _phase?!_ ” He heard the words spit from his lips as though his brain were speaking of its own accord. “You think this is a _phase?!_ That this is something I _chose_?! That this is something I’m just going to wake up one day and NOT be?!” He shook his head. “I never chose this, Dad. I never just _decided_ that I’m gay. It’s who I am, Dad, and I couldn’t change even if I wanted to, and I don’t!”

José very nearly shouted, “You do not try!”

“No, Dad, I don’t!” Carlos threw up his hands in frustration. “I’m not going to try and be someone I’m not!”

José let out a frustrated growl as he rubbed his temples. Carlos swore he felt a few more of his own hair grey as the aggravation and hurt began to boil to the surface.

José sighed, but his glare did not falter as he met his son’s eyes again.

“Carlos, I don’t want to fight about this.”

“Then why are you making this an issue?” Carlos’s voice was like steel.

“Because it is _wrong,_ Carlito. What you are doing, this…infatuation you have with that man…”

“Cecil.” Carlos interrupted.

“What?”

“His name,” Carlos stepped forward so he was closer to his father. “Is Cecil. I haven’t heard you say his name once since we’ve been here!”  He clenched his fists, and unclenched them. “What do you have against Cecil anyway?! Everyone else here loves him! The only one who seems to have any problem, any problem at all, with him is _you._ And I want to know why!”

“That man is a bad influence, that is why!” José yelled, none too quietly. “He has convinced you that what you’re doing is alright! Before you moved to that damned town, there was still hope that perhaps this could be reversed, that perhaps you could still find a way to normality! And that man has ruined that for you!”

There was the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, probably Ashley or Andre, and José’s eyes flicked to the cracked door, and he lowered his voice.

“I’ve _never_ been normal, Dad!” Carlos countered. “Not by your standards, at least! You always wanted me to be like Andre, like you! You wanted me to play sports and get married and have a bunch of kids and that’s _never_ been what I wanted, Dad! I moved to Night Vale for that reason, because if there’s one thing Night Vale’s not, it’s normal.” His eyes blazed. “The people in Night Vale have never given Cecil and I a single reason to believe we’re wrong for loving each other, you know that? Not a single person. In fact, they _support_ our relationship! And yet here I am, with my own _father,_ and he can’t seem to grasp the same concept!”

José’s blue eyes flashed with liquid fire.

“I’ll not sit here and let you speak to me this way!” He demanded. “I am your father! Show the respect I know I raised you to have!”

“I’m not a child!” Carlos spat. “I’m a grown-ass man, Dad, and I can make my own decisions! If you want respect, show it!”

José seethed, and Carlos saw his dark skin turn beet red with anger, but he scarcely cared. He took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before slowly letting it out, thankful when José did not try to speak.

“Dad, I can’t keep pretending to be something I’m not.” Carlos said, a bit calmer. “I’ll never be happy if I go about my life day to day pretending that I’m not absolutely, one hundred percent in love with Cecil. I can’t do that. I tried. And…” He shook his head, refusing to mention his near death experience. “Cecil makes me happy, Dad. Isn’t that enough for you?”

José, once again, ignored him, opting instead to change topics.

“Your abuela will be here tomorrow.” He said. “I do not want to see any more of this transgression while she’s here.”

“And what am I supposed to do, Dad?” Carlos demanded. “Just sit there and lie to her? Tell her that Cecil is anything _but_  my boyfriend? How are you suggesting we explain the fact that _we’re sharing a bed_ , Dad?”

“He could sleep on the couch.” José suggested. “Or perhaps, an airmattress.”

Carlos laughed, mirthlessly, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“You know we’re looking to move in together, right?” He said pointedly. “That Cecil and I are already spending nights together, either at his apartment, or my lab?”

He could feel the uneasiness seep from José’s pores like sweat, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he made José feel the least bit comfortable; had he not put Carlos in a position to which _he_ now had to defend himself? Well, then. Defend himself he would; comfort zones be damned.

“I’ve had sex with him, too.” Carlos informed him, and instantly felt his face redden. He hadn’t meant to let his father in on his sex life, but the filter from his brain to his tongue had been momentarily halted. “And I don't care if you think it's sodomy or whatever it is you see it as! I love him, Dad.”

He half expected José to strike him as his father advanced towards him, but Carlos held up an arm to defend himself, should the need arise.

“How do you know Abuela won’t love him?” He asked as José opened his mouth to speak. “How do you know, for a fact, that she isn’t going to accept him for who he is, and accept me for who I am?"

“She will not approve of this, Carlito.” José growled. “Not one bit.”

“But how do you _know_ that?!” Carlos asked. José hesitated, went to speak, but shut his mouth. “You don’t!”

José stepped back, and ran a hand through his short, dark hair, grunting in frustration.

“I’m done having this conversation.” Carlos declared. He turned on his heel. “Cecil and I are leaving.”

“No!” José reached out and grabbed his son by the shoulder. “It is Christmas, Carlos. You’ve come all this way. Don’t leave and hurt the rest of the family.”

Carlos pulled away from his father’s touch roughly, glaring. “We’ll stay in town, but I think it’s probably best we find a hotel room.” He promised. He slapped open the door with his foot. “You don’t have to worry about witnessing any more _sinful behavior_.”

With that, he left the room, and stomped into his room to the dresser in the corner, where he grabbed his wallet and pocketed it. As he reached for where his car keys should have been beside where his wallet had been sitting, he found them missing. He frowned.

That wasn’t right.

He walked out into the hallway and into the living room, where the kids were sitting in front of the TV as it merrily played _Home Alone 2: Lost in New York_ on CBS. Ashley was reading a book on the couch, and Andre was gently massaging her swollen feet and ankles.

“Hey, you okay?” Andre asked as his brother entered. “I heard you and Dad talking, though I didn’t make out any details. You both sounded pretty pissed.”

“We’re fine.” Carlos said, a bit more harshly than he intended. He sighed and looked around the room. “Has anyone seen my car keys?”

“Tío Cecil took them, I think.” Cody said without looking away from the television. “He left in your car.”

Carlos’s heart stopped for a single, agonizing minute.

That sound he’d heard in the hallway, thinking it had been Andre or Ashley going into the bathroom…it hadn’t been…could it have been…?

“ _Dios mio._ ” Carlos muttered as he dug his phone from his pocket frantically. “Oh, God, please…”

“What is it, Carlos?” Ashley asked, a concerned frown on her face as she laid down her book and looked at her brother-in-law. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” Carlos answered as he pressed his phone to his ear as he rushed back down the hall into his room. He made a beeline for the dresser, and sure enough, Cecil’s wallet was gone, as was his tape recorder, and the retractable spork he insisted upon carrying on his person at all time.

Cecil picked up on the fourth ring. “H-Hello?” He said.

“Cecil!” Carlos ran a hand through his hair as he went back out into the hall and into the living room, where José had emerged, a steady frown still set on his face. “Cecil, where are you? Cody said you took the car.” He walked into the kitchen.

Sure enough, as he peered out the window above the kitchen sink, the rental car was gone, and Cecil’s green parka was not hanging from the hooks next to the door.

Cecil sighed, and he heard him swallow audibly. “Yes, I took the car.” He said.

“Cecil, it’s snowing really heavily, and you don’t know how to drive in snow.” Carlos said, fighting against the growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. “Well, snow that doesn’t burn you, that is…”

“I’ll be fine, Carlos.” Cecil said, but Carlos could tell that his heart wasn’t in it enough to sound convincing.

“Why did you leave?” Carlos asked, gripping the ends of his curls in his fist.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Not if the answer was what he thought it was.

Cecil was quiet for a moment.

“I…I heard you and your dad talking.” He said, and Carlos could hear the tears choked in his throat. “I’m sorry, Carlos, this is all my fault. It’s my fault he’s angry with you. I never meant to…” He trailed off.

“Cecil,” Carlos tried to sound calm. “Cecil, please, come back and we’ll talk about this, okay? The roads are probably really bad right now.”

Cecil took in a shaky breath.

“I’ll be fine, Carlos.” He said. “I’m just going out for a bit to clear my head. I have a photographic memory so I remember how to get downtown…”

“Please, Cec, come back.” Carlos was beginning to feel desperate. “It’s not your fault. Please, just come back and we’ll go out together, okay?”

“N-No, I think I should probably just…” Cecil trailed off. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s my fault he’s mad, oh, master’s of us all, Carlos, I’m so sorry!” His voice hitched as he began to sob quietly, trying in vain to contain a whimper.

“Cecil, calm down, okay? Don't cry. You need to be able to focus on the—”

Carlos was cut off by Cecil crying out in surprise, followed by the sound of the phone dropping from his hand. There was the distinct sound of crunching metal, and a rush of something inflating.  

“Cecil?!” Carlos’s heart leapt into his throat, and he very nearly vomited. “ ** _Cecil_**!!”

The line went dead.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -insert evil cackle here- 
> 
> When all else fails, end with a cliffhanger! I am the queen of those, apparently. 
> 
> The next chapter will reveal all, dear listeners! Stay tuned next for the sound of your own heart beating as you come to the startling realization that the future is incomprehensible. :)
> 
> -
> 
> Translations:  
> -Te amo, querido: "I love you, darling"  
> -Hora de despertar: "Time to wake up"  
> -Cinco minutos más: "Five more minutes"  
> -mi amor: "my love"  
> -Niños, es hora de entrar: "Kids, it's time to come in"  
> -por favor: "Please"  
> -Dios mio: "My god" or "Oh my god"


	10. Here We Come a Rescuing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos rushes to Cecil's aid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO GUESS WHO JUST BOUGHT TICKETS TO SEE NIGHT VALE LIVE IN DETROIT ON MARCH 24th?!?!?! THIS GIRL!!!!!!!!! -squeals happily- I'm so excited I can't see straight! My friend Tristan and I are going, and it's going to be amazing! I can't wait! (If any of you are going to be at the Detroit show, hit me up!)
> 
> OH. AND THAT NEW EPISODE. (I'm not going to go into any particular spoilers, but I will say this: DAMMIT CECIL, WHY?!?!?!?!)
> 
> Ahem. Now, onto the next chapter! I apologize for the horrible cliffy at the end of the last chapter; I'm known for those. ;) I hope this chapter helps make up for it! It's unbetaed, and honestly, I found these scenes harder to write than any of the others I previously struggled with, simply because I wanted it to come out just right, in dialogue, emotion, and description; I hope I did it justice and managed to pull it off well enough! 
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for your kudos and comments! They make my whole day when I read them! Thank you a thousand times! 
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Science & Faith" by the Script (Seriously. Put this song on repeat while reading this chapter. You'll see why.)
> 
> FUN FACT: I gave Cecil a birthday! I decided that he should probably share his birthday with Cecil Baldwin, who, according to his facebook page, was born on February 18th, so...there you go! Also, I gave him an allergy, because I could. Meh. ALSO, I placed Night Vale in Arizona, my reason being that Apache Native Americans once settled in the lower, desert regions of the state. :) 
> 
> ***Please be aware that I am in no way, shape, or form a medical professional, be it doctor, nurse, or surgeon; I'm a psych major for pete's sake! So please excuse any medical terminology/descriptions I may have gotten wrong...

“Oh God,” Carlos muttered. “Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

He pressed ‘redial’ on his phone. It rang seven times before it switched to voicemail.

“ _Dios mio,_ no!” Carlos clenched his phone tightly in his hand, and had to stop himself from throwing it to the ground. “Cecil!”

“Carlos, what’s wrong?!” Maria was at her son’s side in a second, quickly switching the burners on the stove off. “Carlito, _que pasa?!_ ”

Carlos could feel the earth around him beginning to spin, and he would have fallen had Maria not reached out and taken him by the forearms. His entire body was trembling.

“What’s going on?!” Andre demanded as he rushed into the kitchen, José close behind him. Ashley stood back, her hands on Gracie’s shoulders as the little girl and her twin cousins tried to follow, her green eyes wide with alarm.

“It’s Cecil,” Carlos said as he ran his hands through his hair, trying to stave off the hysteria that was rapidly rising, without much avail. “I think he’s hurt. There was the sound of metal crunching, and he sounded scared, and the line went dead…”

“Carlito, calm down.” Maria soothed gently. “What’s going on?”

“He left.” Carlos explained. He buried his face in his hands momentarily, speaking through his fingers. “He just took the keys, and left…he doesn’t have a clue how to drive in weather like this! How could he be so foolish?!”

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, his head whirled in José’s direction. Something inside of him snapped.

“He heard what you said!” He spat at his father. “About him being a bad influence! He heard every word, Dad, and he left! He left and I think he’s hurt, or worse, and it’s _your fault!_ ”

Maria’s eyes widened, and she turned to look at her husband, who swallowed, his face stoic but guilty.  

“What did you do?!” She demanded. “What did you say?!”

“I said some things.” José admitted. “Some things that perhaps…perhaps I should not have said.”

“He called him a bad influence, but not before he also blamed Cecil for my 'sinful behavior.'” Carlos said as he broke away from his mother’s touch, and walked towards the door, his phone still clutched tightly in his hand. “And Cecil heard him and thought it was his fault, and he left.” He grabbed his coat from the hook and shoved his feet into his boots, not bothering to untie them, before looping his scarf around his neck. He grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m going after him.”

“Wait, Carlos, no!” José reached out and grabbed his son’s arm. “It’s horrible out there!”

Carlos yanked his arm from his father’s grasp violently, his glare harsh enough to split stone. “Cecil is probably _hurt_ and he needs me!” He spat. He twisted the handle in his hand. “I’m not just going to leave him!”

“So you’re just going to walk there?!” José demanded. “Don’t be stupid, Carlos!”

Carlos clenched his teeth. “I’m going after him.”

“Then let me take you!” José insisted.

“Haven’t you done enough?!” Carlos demanded. “I’d rather walk.”

“Carlos, wait.” Andre stepped forward, grabbing his own coat and slipping it over his shoulders. “Don’t go out there by yourself. You’ll never get to him in time on foot in this weather. We’ll take my car.”

Carlos looked at his brother gratefully, and nodded his approval. Carlos glared again at José, who stepped out of the way dejectedly.

“Here.” Carlos felt his mother press something gently into his palm. He looked down to reveal a tiny satin purse, which he knew contained her rosary. “You may need this.”

Carlos closed his fingers over the purse. “ _Gracias,_ Mamá.” He whispered.

“Let us know when you find him.” Ashley said from her place in the kitchen. Gracie had turned her face into Ashley’s legs, hugging her tightly, and she whimpered slightly.

“We will.” Andre promised. “We’ll be careful.”

With that, he and Carlos were out the door, and Carlos jumped off the porch in a single bound, and rushed to Andre’s minivan. Andre swiftly slid behind the steering wheel while Carlos clambered into the passenger side, barely managing to close the door without slamming his leg in it. His heart pounded in his head, like a drum, the beat carrying the steady tune of _Ce-cil, Ce-cil, Ce-cil._

Andre peeled out of the driveway as fast as he possibly could considering the slightly slippery conditions the snow – which now fell in thick, wet flakes – had created.

“At least the snow hasn’t covered the tire tracks,” Andre said as he pulled out onto the main road, and quickly followed the set of tracks in the snow before them. “And that it’s still daylight out.”

Carlos nodded, mutely, as he chewed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“Do you know where he was going?” Andre asked.

“He said he remembered how to get downtown,” Carlos explained. “So we should try that way first.”

“You said he heard what Dad said?” Andre turned his head momentarily to look at his brother, who nodded gravely.

“Yeah.” Carlos said. “I don’t know if he heard it all, but…he heard enough.”

Andre shook his head. “ _Dios mio…_ ” He whispered, mostly to himself. “I hope we find him.”

A thousand scenarios played across the mental screen of Carlos’s brain at once, none of which were good. He swallowed the bile at the back of his throat thickly, letting the acidic burning root him in reality, remind him that he wasn’t dreaming, no matter how badly he wanted all of this to be a horrible nightmare. Anxiety twisted painfully in his gut like a wrung rag, and could feel himself shaking as his eyes frantically scanned the road before them.

And then he saw it.

There, about 200 feet in front of them, was the rental car.

Or, rather, what was left of the rental car.

It was wrapped around a tree on the passenger side, crunched and tangled beyond recognition. The emergency lights were flashing in a mesmerizing staccato, like beacons to an oncoming ship. The thick snow made it almost impossible to see anything else, but Carlos had seen enough.

“ _Cecil!_ ” Carlos cried, fumbling with the door handle as Andre fishtailed as he slowed the car. Without even waiting for it to come to a complete stop, Carlos threw open the door and stumbled outside, running as fast as he could against the wind and snow that slapped his face and fogged his glasses.

Andre yelling his name vaguely registered in his mind as he reached the mangled remains of the car and threw himself at the driver’s side door. The front windshield had partially shattered, the hood of the car thrust upwards in what resembled a taunting leer, and the passenger side door was bent inwards into the car itself. Glass littered the dashboard and seats, and snow had begun to accumulate inside as well. 

Carlos yanked open the door so hard he felt his shoulder pop. Trembling hands reached for the limp figure slumped forward against the pillow of the deployed airbag.

“Cecil!” Carlos said urgently as he grasped his boyfriend’s shoulders, very carefully hauling him back away from the steering wheel and airbag, and turning his face towards him. Cecil’s glasses lay in his lap, broken in half, presumably from the impact of the airbag, as well as his cell phone, and Carlos swiftly deposited them into his coat pocket. “Cecil, can you hear me?”

Blood trickled from Cecil’s nose, and from a deep cut above his left eyebrow, and alongside his left temple. Bruises had already begun to form on his cheek and just below his hairline, and several smaller scratches stitched across his forehead and chin. Carlos yanked at his scarf, pulling it from around his neck and pressing it against the deeper wounds to stanch the blood flow. Cecil moaned as he did so, his purple eyes fluttering open.

 “Carlos?” His voice was garbled and weak, thick with pain, but his tone still held the same reverence he reserved for Carlos’s name, and his hand came up to grasp at Carlos’s sleeve. Two of his fingers refused to wrap around his wrist, and while Carlos was not a doctor of medicine, he knew they were probably broken. “Carlos…”

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Carlos gently ran his thumb across Cecil’s cheekbone, trying to keep his voice as calm and even as possible so as to not scare Cecil, despite the terror that gripped his entire body like a vice. “I’m here.”

Andre came running up behind him, his phone in his hand.

“My phone died in the middle of trying to call an ambulance!” He said as he huffed for air. His eyes flicked to Cecil. " _Dios mio..._ _"_

“We have to get him to the hospital.” Carlos said as he momentarily let go of Cecil and leant across him to unbuckle the seatbelt that pinned him to the seat. “They’d never get here in time anyway. Not in this snow.”

 “Carlos,” Cecil murmured again, and Carlos felt his heart restrict in his chest as his boyfriend’s face twisted in pain. “Carlos, it _hurts._ ”

“I know, baby. I’m going to get you out of here.”

He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that the car was still running. Carlos awkwardly bent himself away from his injured and bleeding boyfriend to fumble for the keys, finally locating them and switching the car off.

“He okay?” Andre asked against the howling wind as Carlos brushed away the shards of glass that covered Cecil like glitter, wincing as a piece lodged itself into his finger.

“I don’t know.” Carlos answered as he very gently slipped his arms beneath Cecil’s legs and back. “I think he hit his head. We have to get him to the hospital _now._ They’ll be able to help him there.”

Andre nodded. “Do you need help?”

Carlos didn’t answer, instead turning his attention to Cecil.

“Cecil, I’m going to lift you out of here, okay?” He said. “It might hurt.”

Cecil nodded weakly, his violet eyes glassy, and his teeth chattered. Carlos knew he was probably going to into shock, and that fueled his need to get Cecil _out of there_ even further. He cursed himself for his lack of medical training beyond basic lab safety and first aid.

Angling himself in the snow, Carlos very, very carefully lifted Cecil from the driver’s seat, and Cecil groaned as he did so, his handsome face twisted grotesquely in pain. Carlos hefted him into his arms, bridal style, thankful that Cecil didn’t weigh much. Cecil’s head lolled onto his shoulder, and he tucked his face into the crook of Carlos’s neck, like a kitten against the belly of its mother. Carlos turned his head to plant a kiss onto Cecil’s blond hair as he began the trek through the snow towards Andre’s car, where it waited patiently, the snow stinging his eyes, making it harder and harder to see. Carlos stumbled slightly as his footing slipped in the wet snow, and Cecil gasped, whether from pain, surprise, or a combination of both, Carlos didn’t know.

“I’ve got you, Cec.” He whispered as he straightened himself and continued on. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Carlos, I’m s-so sorry…” Cecil whispered before falling into a fit of coughing.

“Shh, don’t talk.” Carlos commanded. “Save your strength.”

“I’m cold.” Cecil shivered, and Carlos held him closer. “Even my t-teeth are cold.”

“I know, we’re almost to the car.” Carlos said. “Just a little farther, okay?”

Finally, blessedly, he reached the car. Andre was waiting, and he opened the door to the backseat swiftly. Carlos, as quickly as possible, ducked inside, making sure to shield Cecil’s head with his own as he did so.

Cecil, still shivering, moaned again as Carlos shifted so that Cecil was gently cradled against his chest. He wrapped his arms securely around Cecil’s slim body, rubbing circles into his back through the torn fabric of his parka, trying to warm him as best he could. Andre, sliding back into the driver’s seat, reached over and turned up the heat full-blast, and instantly warm air began to fill the small space.

“You okay back there?” He asked.

Carlos nodded. “As we’re going to be.” He said. “Go!”

Andre shifted the minivan into drive, and with a slight spin of the tires, pulled forward, rushing as fast as he could in the direction of town.

Carlos very gently raised Cecil’s head and pulled away the scarf, now stained with blood, to inspect the wounds; the bleeding had slowed to a trickle on the cut on his temple as harsh, rough scabs began to form, but the one above his eyebrow was still bleeding enough to be concerning. He brushed back Cecil’s white-blond hair, now stained orange from the blood, from his forehead soothingly before pressing the scarf back against the gash.

“I’m s-sorry, C-Carlos.” Cecil said through chattering teeth.

“Shhh, no, Cecil, I’m sorry.” Carlos said quietly. “This is my fault. I never should have…” He shook his head, and tears suddenly sprang to his eyes. He leant his cheek against Cecil’s hair. “Just hold on, Cecil, it’s going to be okay.”

“Carlos?” Cecil whimpered. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know.” Carlos soothed, holding Cecil closer. “I know, baby, but you have to stay awake for me. Don’t go to sleep.”

“My head hurts…” Cecil said, his voice suddenly slurring and growing weaker. “I-It hurts, and I’m sleepy…”

“Shhh, _querido,_ don’t talk. We’re almost at the hospital, okay?” Panic gripped at Carlos once more, and he fought back the urge lose his breakfast in the floorboard. _Was being sleepy after hitting your head indication of a concussion, or not?_  “Just stay awake for me.”

“But…you’re so warm…” Cecil murmured against Carlos’s neck.

“No, no, no, Cec, you have to stay awake!” Carlos said, shaking Cecil. Cecil gasped and winced as he opened his eyes just a bit. “Come on, talk to me. Pretend I’m one of your listeners. Tell me what I need to know.”

Cecil groaned in what appeared to be protest, and Carlos gently jostled him again.

“Please, Cecil,” he begged quietly. “Talk to me.”

“Today, listeners,” Cecil slurred, “I remembered my brother’s name…and his face…”

Carlos swallowed. Cecil had never disclosed much about his brother, only that, since finding the cassette tapes that revealed so much in so little content, he had remembered his brother’s name, but he had never told Carlos, and Carlos had never asked.

“What did he look like?” Carlos asked as Cecil began to nod off again. “Tell me about him. What do you remember?”

“H-He had hair…like mine, but…darker…” Cecil said, frowning, squinting. “He was old…er than m-me…”

“What was his name?” Carlos pressed. Anything to get Cecil to stay awake. “Was he as stubborn as you sometimes?”

“Mmmmm.” Cecil agreed. “S-Some…times…”

He nodded off again, this time going completely slack in Carlos’s arms, and Carlos shook him again.

“Cecil, no, stay awake for me, _querido_.” He pleaded. “We’re almost to the hospital.”

Cecil didn’t answer. He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t even utter a single sound in reply. Carlos brought his hand to his face, patting at his cheek lightly.

“No, no, no, Cecil, don’t do this!” He begged. “Wake up!”

Cecil didn’t respond.

Blind terror seized hold of Carlos’s entire being, and he groped at the rapidly fraying strings of control. Every coherent thought he’d ever had, every single moment of calm he had ever experienced, flew out the window all at once, and Carlos could feel himself slipping further and further into a deep chasm of what could only be described as pure and utter despair.

“Cecil?!” He shook his boyfriend again. “Cecil, no!”

He pressed two fingers to Cecil’s neck, but his hands were shaking so badly he was unable to locate a pulse. This only fueled the fire of panic in his gut more, and Carlos suddenly found himself unable to breathe as it consumed him whole, like he was nothing more than the meal of some ferocious beast.

_He’s going to die. Dios mio, he’s going to die! He hit his head, and he’s going to die!_

“Andre!” He cried to his brother in the front seat of the car. “He’s unconscious!”

Andre dared a glance in the rearview mirror at his brother and Cecil, his brown eyes wide.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” He promised. “The roads are slick! We’re almost there!”

Carlos curled himself around the listless body of his boyfriend, choking back the panicked sobs that were accumulating at the back of his throat as he pressed Cecil’s head close to his chest. Shaking fingers clutched at the torn and bloody fabric of the lime green parka, pulling him so close, he was certain if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to meld Cecil’s body with his own.

“Hold on, Cecil,” he whispered against Cecil’s forehead. “Please, _please_ hold on.”

_Please don’t die. I need you._

After what seemed like an eternity, Andre finally peeled into the circle drive of the emergency room, sliding to a rough stop in front of the doors. Immediately he was out of the driver’s seat, not bothering to even kill the engine, and rushed to the door of the backseat, and opened it. Carlos, still holding Cecil tightly against his chest, wasted no time clambering out onto the pavement.

“Go park the car!” Carlos said, looking at his brother as he jostled Cecil in his arms. “I’ll get him into triage, at least.”

Andre nodded. “I’ll be there as soon as I can!” He said, and quickly hopped back in the car.

Carlos turned and rushed through the automatic doors of the emergency room, and was pleased to note that there was no one else in the waiting room as he made a beeline for the front desk.

An older gentleman was sitting behind the desk, sipping a cup of coffee. Upon seeing Carlos, with the bloody Cecil in his arms, he nearly spat it all over his monitor in surprise.

“What happened?!” He asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.

“Car accident.” Carlos huffed, slightly out of breath. “He hit his head, and he’s bleeding. He needs help!”

The man behind the counter immediately hit a button on the wall, and the double doors next to the waiting room opened. He picked up the phone next to his computer.

“We gotta car accident in here!” He said, urgently. “Looks like head trauma.” He then hung up and pointed towards the doors. “Through there. We’ll get you all set up.”

Carlos gave the man a single nod before he hurried towards the doors, where he was met immediately by three nurses and a gurney, where he gingerly laid Cecil’s limp body.

“What have we got?” One of the nurses asked as a stethoscope was pressed to Cecil’s chest as another set of nimble fingers began to remove his parka. Carlos stood off to the side and watched as they worked, forcing himself to remain calm as an oxygen mask was placed on Cecil’s face.

“Car accident.” He answered above the cries of status and heart rate. “He hit a tree.”

The nurse with the stethoscope on Cecil’s chest pulled it away.

“Heart rate slow,” she announced, and gently pulled away Carlos’s scarf from Cecil’s head. “Contusions to the forehead and left temple, possible brain swelling. I need a CT scan to check for trauma, now!” She shined a penlight in Cecil’s eyes.

They began to wheel the gurney down the hall, taking Cecil with it. Carlos felt the already high panic levels rise a notch higher as they turned the corner and disappeared, and he stepped forward as though to follow them, but a hand on his arm held him back.

“Sir?” A young nurse with dark skin and eyes in mint green scrubs smiled warmly at him. “I need you to come with me. Are you of any relation to the patient?”

Carlos nodded. “I’m his boyfriend.” He answered.

“Are you on his emergency consent form?” She asked.

Carlos shook his head. “I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I think so. We’ve been dating for a while now, but he’s never even been sick…”

The nurse smiled kindly at him and squeezed his arm.

“It’s okay.” She said. “Follow me. We’ll ask you the basics.”

Carlos nodded and followed her to a room next to the office, where a sign on the door said “triage” in bold, black letters. The nurse instructed Carlos to sit, which he gratefully obliged as he began to realize how badly his legs were shaking.

The nurse sat down in a stool next to a computer monitor while Carlos, overcome by the sudden undeniable urge to vomit, hunched over, his head on his knees, hands behind his head.

“Are you okay?” The nurse asked quietly.

Carlos swallowed and raised his head; as he did so, some of the tears that had been welling in his eyes began to cascade down his face, and he quickly wiped them away.

“Y-Yeah.” He stammered. “Fine.”

The nurse looked skeptical, but she didn’t press the issue further.

“Alright, you said you’re his boyfriend?” She asked.

Carlos nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s his name? First, middle, and last, please.”

“Cecil. Cecil Gershwin Palmer.” He spelled out Cecil’s middle name for her.

“Age and date of birth?”

“Thirty two; February 18th, 1981.”

“Any allergies we need to know about?”

“Penicillin.”  Carlos said. He decided to leave out Cecil’s odd allergy to the yellow and purple eggs that John Peters – you know, the farmer? – sold at the farmer’s market every Saturday morning, as he was certain, from his experience, that yellow and purple eggs didn’t exist anywhere outside of Night Vale.

“Alright, good.” The nurse said as she typed in the information Carlos had provided. “Any previous medical problems?”

“He said he had Lyme disease almost two years ago.” Carlos said. “But he never showed any symptoms, and the last time he went to the doctor, his blood work came back normal.”

“That’s unusual.” The nurse murmured quietly. “Perhaps it was a misdiagnosis?”

Carlos shook his head and shrugged. “We weren’t dating at the time, so honestly, I couldn’t tell you.”

“That’s fine.” She said. “Now, does he have any immediate family that we can contact in the event of consent being needed?”

Carlos shook his head. “He doesn’t have any family.” He said. “I-I’m all he has.”

“He doesn’t have any parents or siblings we can call?” She asked. “I’m afraid if you aren’t on his consent form, we won’t be allowed to release any information to you…”

“His mother died when he was fifteen.” Carlos said. “And his brother just up and left him around the same time. He’s never met his father, and doesn’t even know his name. I’m _all_ he has.”

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look.

“Do you know who is primary physician is?” She asked.

“Teddy Williams.” Carlos answered. “He lives in Arizona; we’re here for the holidays visiting my parents.”

“Arizona, wow…” The nurse whistled. “I bet this weather is a bit of a wakeup call, eh?”

Carlos chuckled, dryly, mirthlessly. “That’s why he got in the accident.” He answered quietly. “He has _no_ idea how to drive in snow, and yet he _still_ took the keys and tried!” He shook his head angrily. “And now…”

The nurse reached out and patted his knee.

“It’s okay.” She said. “We’re going to do everything we can for him.”

She turned back to the computer.

“Is there any way we can get in touch with Dr. Williams?” She asked. “Do you have his insurance card?”

Carlos shook his head.

“His wallet was on him.” He said. “Either in his jeans or his coat.”

The nurse nodded, and stood to her feet.

“Give me a moment.” She said, and excused herself from the room. Less than a minute later, she reappeared with Cecil’s jeans, lime green parka – stained with rust colored splotches now that made Carlos nauseous to look at – and a very familiar red flannel shirt. Carlos realized that Cecil must have grabbed it as he grabbed the keys from the dresser. He doubted it had been an accident.

“Here.” The nurse said, handing Carlos the clothing. He rummaged through the pockets of Cecil’s jeans, finding nothing, but his parka pockets yielded his retractable spork, his hand held tape recorder, a few peppermints, his iPod and earbuds, and, thankfully, his wallet. Carlos pulled his insurance and medical care cards from their designated pockets and handed them to the nurse, who began entering the information into the computer as Carlos stared at the torn coat in his hands. Had they not been covered in his boyfriend’s blood, he would have been tempted to bury his face in the lining, hoping to find Cecil’s scent lingering there, but the pungent smell of rust and copper made him want to gag.

The nurse must have sensed this, because she paused what she was doing.

“If you want, we can get rid of that.” She said, softly. “It’s technically a biohazard, with that blood on it.”

Carlos hesitated a moment before nodding.

“Please.” He said. “Can I wash my hands, too? They're...” He held up a hand, which was stained red.

“Sure.” The nurse smiled as she slipped on a latex glove and took the parka from Carlos, depositing it in a red biohazard bag and shoving it underneath her stool as she resumed typing, and pointed to the small sink in the corner. "You can wash your hands there. There's soap and disinfectant in the dispensery by the light switch."

Carlos gratefully stood and carefully folded the remaining jeans and flannel, placing them on the back of the chair before he made his way to the sink. He pumped a gratitous amount of soap into his palm, and turned on the hot water. He washed his hands clean until they were raw and sore, but thankfully clear of the reminder of his boyfriend's current state. He quietly sat back down in the chair.

After a few moments of silence, the nurse rose once more.

“I’m going to have to call Dr. Williams,” she said. “He’s Mr. Palmer’s primary physician, and he’ll have access to his records, including his emergency forms. If you’re on it, we can release information to you.”

Carlos nodded. “Thank you.” He said.

“You can go out into the waiting room until we know anything else.”

Carlos nodded, and without another word, stood, and allowed the young nurse to show him out the door and back into the hallway, and from there back into the waiting room, where he found Andre pacing restlessly next to a power outlet in the wall, where his phone was plugged in to charge.

“Carlos!” Andre rushed to his brother’s side, his face drawn with worry. “Is he alright?! What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know.” Carlos answered. “They won’t release any information to me until they find out if I’m on Cecil’s emergency contacts or not. They’re calling Cecil’s doctor now.”

Andre ran a hand over his forehead. “What if you aren’t on his contacts?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” Carlos said, sighing.

Andre placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s sit down.” He said quietly. “All we can do now is wait.”

Carlos nodded, and allowed his brother to lead him to the chairs along the large windows of the waiting room. He gratefully into one of the hard seats, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, trying once more to keep the thoughts of uncertainty at bay.

“I’m going to call Ashley and let her and the others know we made it here safely.” Andre said. “You gonna be okay here by yourself for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Carlos answered. “Go ahead.”

Andre nodded once, turning away from his brother and walking outside. Carlos sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his elbows on his knees.

A sudden tinny tune broke through the silence of the waiting room, accompanied by a persistent buzzing from his pocket. Frowning, he reached in and pulled out Cecil’s cell phone, the lockscreen of which declared that it was Dana calling.

Carlos swallowed thickly, debating whether or not he should answer the call. He had no information whatsoever about Cecil’s current state, and he wasn’t sure that he’d even be able to access any information any time soon. Not only that, but how in the world was he going to explain the situation in the first place?

Still, Carlos knew he owed Dana, as Cecil’s friend and intern, at least some sort of explanation. And if Cecil didn’t make it out of this…well, someone needed to know that wasn’t the deranged Teddy Williams.

He swallowed again, and slid the bar to answer the phone, pressing it to his ear.

Before he had time to utter so much as a word, Dana’s chiming voice instantly filled his ears.

“Cecil! Great news! Intern Franz has returned from the pocket dimension in the men’s restroom! He now has six left pinky toes, but I think he’ll be able to learn to live with them, and I told him you—”

“Dana,” Carlos cut her off. “It’s Carlos.”

“Oh.” Dana stopped short. “Carlos, hi! Sorry about that! I get a little carried away sometimes. Is Cecil there? It’s kind of important.”

“No, Cecil isn’t here.” Carlos answered.

“Well, could you find him for me?” Dana pressed. “Please? Station Management asked me to make sure he knows that he still has to work on New Year’s Eve and give the new year’s report on the first of the year after he goes in for—”

“No, Dana, I can’t get him for you.” Carlos said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “There’s…Cecil’s been in an accident.”

“Accident?” Dana’s voice suddenly grew grave. “What do you mean, accident?”

“Cecil was in a car accident, Dana. He’s in the emergency room now.”

Dana gasped, and swore in a language Carlos didn’t understand. “What happened?!”

“He hit a tree.” Carlos answered. “It was snowing, and I guess he lost control of the car…he was on the phone with me, and he was crying, and…” Carlos trailed off, the knot at the back of his throat silencing him.

Dana was quiet for a second. “Why was he crying?” She asked in a small voice.

“It’s all my fault, Dana.” Carlos said. “I never should have brought him here! I brought him into a world that’s not strange and _normal_ , and I should have known better! And now he’s hurt, and it’s _my fault._ ”

He pressed the heel of his free hand to his forehead in an effort to fight away the tears that threatened to fall again.

He heard Dana take a deep breath on the other line.

“Carlos, listen to me.” She said, her wispy voice serious. “If there’s one thing growing up in Night Vale and working at NVCR teaches you, it’s how to survive. Cecil survived nine years as an intern here at the station before he became the Voice. _Nine years,_ Carlos. That didn’t happen by accident. Cecil’s a lot of things, but if there’s one thing he _really_ is, it’s a fighter. He’ll pull through this.”

Carlos allowed her words to sink in before he shakily said, “Okay.”

“Good. Now. I need to go let Station Management know what’s going on, okay? They probably aren’t going to like this very much, and I swear to the Glow Cloud, if you don’t call me and let me know what’s going on as soon as you know something, Carlos the Scientist, I will personally find a way to come through the phone and slap you with a wet Hachenberg fish, do you understand me?”

Carlos couldn’t help but smile slightly, despite not having a clue in the world what a Hachenberg fish even was, at Dana’s protectiveness. Cecil certainly was loved by all.

“I will, Dana, I promise.” He said. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you.” Dana’s voice began gentle again. “And Carlos? He’ll pull through this. If not for anyone else, he’ll fight for you.”

Carlos felt his heart constrict painfully again.

“Thanks, Dana.” He said. “That means a lot.”

“Look, I gotta go, okay? Stay strong, Carlos. He’ll be okay.” Someone spoke in the background. “Bye, Carlos.”

“Bye, Dana.”

Just as he hung up the phone, Andre walked back into the room, brushing snowflakes from his coat.

“Ashley said they’re waiting for the snow to let up a little before they try and come to the hospital.” He explained. “She said Dad feels pretty bad.”

Carlos felt his face harden at the mention of José. He wanted badly to spit _Good! He should!,_ but he bit his tongue, refusing to allow himself to take his anger out on his brother. This was just as much his fault as it was José’s.

“Anything new?” Andre asked.

Carlos shook his head. “I just got off the phone with Dana, Cecil’s intern at the radio station. I told her what’s going on.”

Andre nodded. “Probably a good idea.” He agreed. “So someone knows, at least.”

The brothers didn’t say anything else as Andre dropped himself into the seat next to Carlos, depositing his coat on the back of the chair. Carlos realized he, too, was still in his coat, and he peeled it off, grateful to note that there was no blood on it, despite the blood that had covered his boyfriend. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle that again.

After about ten minutes, the silence of the waiting room was beginning to grow oppressive. Usually Carlos enjoyed a bit of peace and quiet every once in a while to help him gather his thoughts and unwind, but now, with his emotions and their corresponding thoughts running rampant through his consciousness, he found the stillness suffocating. He dug into his pocket and produced Cecil’s purple iPod. He unwound the earbuds from around it and placed them in his ears, pressing play on the clickwheel without looking at what it was Cecil had last been listening to. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the lyrics to wash over him like warm water, blessedly washing away the stifling silence.

 

_You won’t find faith or hope down a telescope_

_You won’t find heart or soul in the stars,_

_You can break everything down to chemicals_

_But you can’t explain a love like ours_

_It’s the way we feel,_

_Yeah, this is real…_

Intrigued, Carlos looked down at the iPod’s screen, and found that the song he was currently listening to was the Script’s “Science & Faith.” He clicked the back button so he could listen to the song in its entirety.

No sooner had the first verse finished did Carlos stand up, almost abruptly. He yanked the earbuds out of his ears and sat the iPod, along with Cecil’s retractable spork and cell phone, down on the chair where he had been sitting, along with Cecil's jeans and the flannel.

“I’ll be back.” He said to Andre, who raised an inquisitive brow. “There’s something…there’s something I need to do.”

Andre nodded. “Okay.” He said. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

“Thanks.” Carlos said. He turned on his heel and marched to the doors at the opposite end of the waiting room and walked into the hall, finding a directory map next to the vending machines filled with pop and peanut butter crackers.

Locating his destination, Carlos set out, his face set, his shoulders squared, and a renewed sense of urgent purpose settling in his stomach.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was unbetaed, and I wrote most of it in caffeine-induced stupors late into the night...so if you catch anything that needs addressing, let me know! 
> 
> I feel poor Carlos's pain. I really do. When I was reading through this, I kept having to remind myself that Carlos's anger and guilt are justifiable...right?...gaaaaaaahhhh but they were hard to write! (Jose deserved it, though. Jussayin'.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!!!!! Tune in again soon!!!
> 
> Because I've had a few people ask, yes! I do have a tumblr! You can find me under the same username over there! :D Come find me, and we'll chat and share an inevitable future. :) 
> 
> \-----
> 
> Translations:  
> -Que pasa: "What's wrong?"  
> -Dios mio: "My god" or "oh my god"


	11. Feels Breaking Over an Open Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos makes a deal with God, José swallows his pride, Carmen is pissed, and the doctor reveals all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is an insanely quick update! 
> 
> This chapter was the most easily flowing chapter I have written yet! I found the beginning scene here extremely wonderful to write; I drew greatly from my own spirituality and was able to channel a lot of it into Carlos's reactions and emotions, as well as his thoughts, and it was gloriously neat to be able to make it flow without having to go back and change it a thousand times! 
> 
> This chapter focuses heavily on Carlos in the aftermath of the car accident, but it also addresses some important issues that have been brought up to me after the last chapter, namely the fact that Carlos chose to take matters into his own hands and move Cecil to take him to the hospital himself instead of waiting for emergency crews to get there, which is a big NO NO when dealing with trauma of any kind. Again, I am not a nurse or doctor, and I thank everyone who commented on that from the bottom of my heart! José also has a moment to reflect on the things he's said and done in the past, and I believe that's vitally important to not only his character and the relationship he has with Carlos, but also as moral for the real world: sometimes, peeps, you're wrong, and when you are, you have to own up to it. Even you, José. 
> 
> Going on! Enjoy! Thank you ALL For your glorious comments and kudos the past couple days; it's so inspiring to see that you're all enjoying this fic so much! <3 <3 <3 <3 -blows kisses-
> 
> UBER SPECIAL THANKS to my best friend in the whole world, Ray, for helping me lay out this scene! She was raised in a Catholic family, so she was able to walk me through several traditions and sets ups here, including the proper rosary. Thank you, Ray!!! POON! 
> 
>  
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Only You're the One" by Lifehouse (again, listen to this on repeat. I listened to it the same way whilst writing these scenes. It's beautiful.)

 

It didn’t take Carlos long to reach his destination, despite the numerous directions that had to be given from various nurses he passed in the hallways. After quickly sending a text to Andre to tell him where he was, he took a deep breath as he stood outside of the very ordinary door, as though gathering his courage, before he opened the door and walked inside.

The hospital chapel was small, with a seating capacity of only about sixty people, at most, but it was warm and inviting, lit by several small tea candles at the altar in front of the large stained glass window depicting a cross with a dove with an olive branch in its beak, while stings of white Christmas lights strung on the tree in the corner added an ambient glow in the otherwise dim space. It smelled faintly of jasmine air freshener.

Carlos reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against Cecil’s handheld recorder as he dug deep in search of his prize. He finally found what he was looking for, and gently pulled the tiny satin purse from the pocket. He held it in his palm for a moment, looking at it, before he undid the small clasp and very gently pulled the rosary from inside.

He hadn’t done this in a while. Sure, he liked to attend Mass whenever he was home with his family, and he tried to make at least an attempt to go on Christmas or the odd Easter, but since moving to Night Vale, he had not been able to, as the nearest cathedral, or church of the Catholic Christian faith was probably in Phoenix, or Tuscan.

Truth be told, Carlos had been fairly apprehensive about his religious beliefs for quite some time, since he was in high school, though he had never been comfortable enough to tell his parents about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in a higher being; surely, with all he had been through and the fact that he had somehow managed to come out of all of it – even a near death experience – alive and intact was a testimony to the idea that there actually probably _was_. (That, and Josie’s angels, despite the town mantra of them not being real.) But Carlos, with all he had been done and seen and heard, wasn’t quite sure just _what_ to believe, nor what or who to believe in.

Until, that is, he met Cecil.

And right then, there, with the life of the man he loved hanging by a thread of uncertainty, with his everything in the balance, Carlos didn’t care. He was desperate enough to try anything.

Carlos gently rolled the beads of the rosary in his fingers as he quietly began to recite the scriptures and prayers of protection as he crossed his chest and forehead, slowly making his way forward.

He sank to his knees on the steps of the altar, his legs suddenly unable to support his body. He gripped the rosary in between his hands as he clasped them together, and searched desperately for the right words to say.

“I haven’t done this in a while.” He said, finally, quietly. “So I’m probably not…I’m a little out of practice. I’m…not even sure where to begin…”

He cleared his throat awkwardly several times. As he knelt there, his fingers so tightly intertwined his knuckles were white, the emotions he had been holding at bay finally broke the dam, and tears began to course down his face as his shoulders shook.

“Please, God,” he prayed, slightly startled by how hoarse his voice cracked so abruptly. “I know I haven’t done this in a long time…but God, _please,_ don’t take him. This is all my fault. I never should have brought him here. I never should have brought him to a place where he’s hated for who he is, for loving me…he should have stayed in Night Vale. At least there he’s away from all this. At least there, he’s safe.” He closed his eyes tightly as the guilt and self-loathing washed over him in waves. He took in another ragged breath.

“Take me instead. P-Please, God, don’t take Cecil. I c-can’t…I don’t know…God, _please…_ ”

He let out a strangled sob, pressing his folded hands to his forehead, the beads of the rosary hanging lightly against his cheek.

“I love him, God. And I don’t care if it’s a sin, and I don’t care if it damns my soul, or anything else people say. I love him. I’ve never had…I never expected Cecil. I never expected to find someone who loves me that much for no reason at all. I never…I’ve never loved anyone like I love Cecil. He makes me want to be better; he makes me want to live louder, fight harder, and I don’t know if I can live without him.”

He sucked in a greedy breath, raising his head and turning his eyes towards the stained glass cross. “I get it. I’ve been stupid. I’ve lost sight of what’s important. I’ve ignored You, turned by back on You in the name of science and theory, and God, I’m _sorry._ But please, if you let him live, I’ll never doubt again; I’ll give You every ounce of blood I have, every last second of my life I have left, just please, _don’t. Take. Cecil.”_

With that, Carlos finally allowed himself to weep.

 

...oOo...

 

Carlos wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, kneeling on the steps of the altar in the dim chapel. The nearly two years he had spent in Night Vale had destroyed his sense and acceptance of the passing of time, as though it were a piece of his DNA that had become dislodged; seconds bled into minutes, minutes bled into hours, hours bled into days, and vice versa, all coalescing in a kaleidoscope of paradoxical vertices.

He was aware of when the tears finally ran out, and he was left to dry sob into the scratchy carpet of the steps as he pressed his face against it, the sides and nose pads of his glasses pressing painfully against the bridge of his nose and temples, still clutching his mother’s rosary tight, this time against his chest near his heart.

He was aware that he should probably make his way back towards the emergency room, to wait for any news. His phone had remained silent throughout his time in the chapel, so he knew that there had been no advancements in information that Andre could find. But somehow, he couldn’t muster up the energy to move from his place on the floor.

He managed to let his mind to go blissfully blank as he closed his eyes and listened to the silence of the small room; where the silence in the waiting room had been deafening, this silence is softer, more subtle, much less polite and much more all consuming, like a blanket placed around his shoulders. Carlos allowed himself to believe that maybe it was God watching over him. It was comforting, in a way.

He was aware of a clicking sound as the door behind him clicked open and shut quietly. He was aware of the soft footsteps as someone crossed the short distance between the door and the altar steps, but Carlos didn’t bother to look and see who it was. He didn’t care.

Rough, calloused palms pressed against his upper arms, gently curling around his biceps and shaking him. Carlos opened his eyes to find José squatting down next to him, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Carlos,” he started.

Carlos felt all of the anger he had cried off come surging back all at once, like a tidal wave, and he sat up and yanked himself away from his father, who looked surprised, and then ashamed.

Carlos didn’t say a word as he swiftly stood to his feet and hobbled to one of the few actual pews in the chapel; his left leg had fallen asleep, and pins and needles stabbed at his calf painfully as he applied pressure to it. He sank down into the pew and put his head between his knees.

He heard José take a seat next to him, though he kept a good amount of distance between them. Carlos heard him sigh, and he could discern the exhaustion in the huff of breath easily; he mirrored the sentiment.

“Are you here to tell me that this is what I get for committing the sin of homosexuality?” He said finally, his words edged and as raw as an exposed nerve as he raised his head to look at his father.

José flinched, but took the words as they slapped him in the face like a gust of wind.

“No.” He said finally. “I’m not here for that.”

“Then why _are_ you here, Dad?” Carlos asked, his tone still biting. “To tell me you’re disappointed in me again?”

José shook his head. “No, Carlos, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because…” he sighed and averted his blue eyes towards the floor. “I’m here to apologize. Back at home, I…I said some things that I should not have, things I now see were not only hurtful to Cecil, but…to you as well.”

Carlos swallowed, but he said nothing, allowing his father to continue.

“Carlos…” José faltered. “I never meant for this to happen. I’m so sorry, _hijo,_ that I caused this to happen. Had I known, I never…” 

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Carlos said, his voice now tired and less venomous.

José shook his head. “No, you are.” He assured his son. “I realize now that what I said was wrong, that perhaps…perhaps _I_ was wrong, about you, and about Cecil, and about what the two of you have. Perhaps I judged Cecil too harshly without getting to know him first.”

“I’m not going to deny that.”

“You don’t have to.” José said. “I know. I was blind, Carlos, blind to what was right in front of me. I never should have said the things I did about Cecil. I was angry, and I felt…” He tampered off. “I felt that it was my job to guide you, to still be your father, but I realize now that you are not a child anymore; you’re a man now, an intelligent man capable of making his own decisions in life and upholding his own beliefs and morals. You do not need me to tell you how to live your life.”

He was quiet for a moment before he continued.

“For a long time after you told us that you were gay, I felt that it was my fault. I held myself accountable. I told myself, ‘José, if you are stern with him, perhaps he will deviate from the deviance, and find his way into a normal life.’ I worried for you, more than I did Andre or Carmen, because…because, _hijo,_ this world is cruel. It is cruel and unaccepting of anything outside of the norm, and I knew that life as a gay man, especially a gay man with a Latino background, would not be easy for you.”

“I never wanted easy, Dad.” Carlos said. “I just wanted to be myself.”

“I know that, now. I see so much now that I did not see even when I woke up this morning.” José slowly reached out and placed a hand on Carlos’s shoulder. “I never meant to make you feel like I was ashamed of you, Carlito. I am so proud of you. I have always been proud of you. And I am so sorry if that is something I made you feel like you had to earn, because, Carlos, I have been proud of you from the moment you were born, from the first time I held you thirty years ago. The day you told me that you were gay, I was proud of you. I admired your courage, your strength, because it is not something that I believe I would ever be able to possess. But I feared for you, _hijo,_ because I knew that your life would not be easy. No parent ever wants their child to suffer.”

Carlos shook his head. “Nothing worth having is _easy._ ” He said quietly. “And I’ve never doubted that you love me, Dad, or that you’re proud of me. I just…wanted you to try and accept me for what I am, for _who_ I am. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

José nodded.

“I know.” He said. “And from now on, you have my word, that I will try harder. To accept and understand you, and to give Cecil a chance.” He smiled softly at his son. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Carlos felt his heart do a flip in his chest, and he nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well, then,” José said, squeezing his son’s shoulder. “Who am I to judge that?”

Within seconds, Carlos found himself in his father’s embrace as he grabbed José by the shoulders, clinging to him tightly, fighting the urge to break down again right then and there, this time for entirely different reasons. He had been waiting for this moment for nearly fifteen years, and finally, _finally,_ he knew that his father accepted him, was _trying_ , for everything he was, and everything he wasn’t. And he knew that it was still a rough road, with several potholes, obstacles, and lessons to be learned along the way, but now he knew that at least his father was seeing him as he truly was, not as he could be, and the weight he had carried on his shoulders for far too long was very suddenly lifted.

Carlos dared a glance at the stained glass cross, sending up a prayer of thanks as he felt his father return his embrace.

“ _Te quiero mucho, mi hijo._ ” José whispered in his ear.

The father and son pulled apart, and Carlos smiled at him.

“ _Gracias, Papá.”_

The two fell into companionable silence then, neither saying a word, but both knowing that nothing needed to be said. Carlos looked down at the rosary in his hand and smiled, nodding his head before he slipped it back into its tiny purse.

After a few minutes, it was José that finally broke the quiet contemplation.

“Tell me about Night Vale. Tell me about your life there.”

So Carlos told him. They sat on the pew in the dim candlelight of the hospital chapel, side by side, and Carlos talked to him about the town itself, the residents, the inherent absurdity that accompanied the inexplicable and scientifically frustrating. He told him about the radiation levels that wafted through the town like fog, but never caused any negative effects. He told him about the hooded figures, the Glow Cloud, the Dog Park, and Old Woman Josie’s angels. He told him about the terrifying spins on common holidays, and how the street cleaners were harmless, but portrayed in a way that made them seem so terrifying even H.P. Lovecraft would be proud. He told him about his team, about the lab, about how all of them had adapted to the town and its strange caveats and crevices. He even hiked up his shirt and showed his father the scars that dotted his chest from his encounter with the tiny city below Lane 5 at the bowling alley, and how the incident had been the turning point for many things in his life, including how he chose to live it, and how he looked at the world around him.

But most of all, Carlos told him about Cecil.

He talked about Cecil’s tattoos, about their sentience, and how they moved of their own volition, and that they liked Carlos’s touch. He told him about the radio station, and about Cecil’s loyalty to not only his job, but to his community, his fellow Night Valeans. He told him about how he had been unsure of Cecil’s advances at first, how he had thought they were nothing more than an elaborately executed ploy, a joke at Carlos’s expense, and how it had been slowly made clear that Cecil was genuine in his feelings, and that slowly, Carlos had begun to return those feelings. He told him about Cecil’s exuberance, his enthusiasm in life, his acceptance, his unconditional love for the beauty in all things. He told him how Cecil called him perfect, and how, gradually, Carlos had begun to think that, perhaps, he _was_ perfect, imperfectly so, if only in Cecil’s definition of the word, and how that was just fine by him. He talked about Cecil’s voice. He talked about Cecil’s eyes, and the way they would light up whenever Carlos said his name, whenever he was excited, and how they would grow stormy whenever he was upset or frightened. He told him about his contemplation for permanence in the relationship, about how Cecil’s face was the first thing he wanted to wake up to, and the last thing he wanted to see before he fell asleep for the rest of his life. He told his father how much he truly, truly loved the man, and just how scared he was to lose the one thing in his life he felt that he could not do without.

José sat and listened, as though enraptured, to every word Carlos spoke, nodding his head in affirmation, smiling, not saying a word as he reached out and laid a hand on Carlos’s shoulder.

“It sounds as though Night Vale is…everything you thought it would be?”

Carlos shook his head. “Not even close.” He said, grinning. “It’s so much _more_ than I ever could have dreamed, Dad. I get to do what I love, and at the same time, get to witness the impossible every day, and still manage to look back on it at the end of the night and think that, no matter how terrifying it can be sometimes, no matter how truly _terrible_ it can honestly be, it’s the one place in this universe I’d choose to be.”

At that moment, the phone in Carlos’s pocket began to buzz. Startled, Carlos pulled it from his jeans and looked at the bright lockscreen. It was Andre.

His heart leapt into his throat again, and he felt the apprehension return like a punch to the gut. He quickly pressed ‘answer.’

“Andre?” He asked, trying to keep his voice from quaking.

“You need to get down here.” Andre said. “The doctor’s looking for you.”

“Do you know anything?” Carlos said as he looked at José, and stood to his feet swiftly. “Did they say?”

“No.” Andre answered. “All they said was that they needed to talk to you.” There  was a muffled feminine voice in the background. “Oh, and Carmen says she’s going to beat both of our asses when this is over for taking matters into our own hands and not waiting on an ambulance. So. You might want to pick up a couple hard hats on the way back, if you can.”

Carlos chuckled against the nerves that threaded through his body like lightning bolts. “We’re on our way.”

With that, he ended the call, and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He looked at José.

“The doctor wants to see me.” He said. “Carmen’s also threatening to mount mine and Andre’s asses on her wall, so we should probably get down there.”

José nodded. “Your mother called her before I left.” He said. “Explained what was going on.”

“Is Mamá with you?”

“No, she and Ashley stayed home with the children. Gracie was particularly upset. They said that they will probably come by later once the roads have gotten better and we know more.”

Carlos nodded. Being surrounded by his family sounded incredibly wonderful right then.

The two men made their way to the back of the chapel towards the door. Carlos dared one last glance over his shoulder at the stained glass window behind the altar before he walked through the door, smiling softly.

They walked as quickly as possible through the winding hallways of the hospital, skirting around the corners and slamming their palms against the metal locks of the doors that stood in their paths. Eventually, a large red sign read “Emergency Room” in all capital letters with an arrow pointing to the left, and Carlos hurried in front of his father to rush through the doors.

He found Andre and Carmen standing near the window, Carmen still dressed in her red scrubs, indicating she had come here directly from her shift on the second floor of the hospital. As soon as she saw him and José enter, she made a beeline for them, a look of both fury and relief written clearly across her face.

“ _Eres un idiota!_ ” She exclaimed as she reached out and slapped Carlos upside the head, not enough to hurt, but to most definitely get her point across. “What were you thinking, moving Cecil yourself instead of waiting for emergency responders to get there?! You could have seriously hurt him if he had sustained spinal damage!”

Carlos winced and rubbed the spot on his head where Carmen had smacked him. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I panicked. He was bleeding, and the car was mangled, and the snow was getting worse, and I…I just didn’t think.”

Carmen huffed, growling slightly in the back of her throat, shaking her hands in the air, obviously frustrated and wanting to strangle her brother, but unable to do so. After a moment, she finally took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching out to grasp Carlos’s forearms.

“I know.” She said quietly. “I understand. I probably would have done the same thing in your situation had it been me, and I actually _have_ medical training.” She shook her head, and rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry; I’ve had a crazy day here and then I get a call from Mamá through the hospital line that Cecil was in a car accident, and I rushed here as soon as I could.”

“Carmen, it’s fine.” Carlos said, taking his sister’s hands and squeezing them gently. “I get it. You’re right. I should have waited.”

“Just try to use your head next time, okay _?_ ” She said.

“Promise _._ ” Carlos said, nodding.

The doors leading into the waiting room from the emergency room beyond opened with a rush of air, and a middle aged woman with shoulder length brown hair came in.

“Is Carlos Ramirez here?” She asked.

Carlos stepped forward. “That’s me.” He said.

The woman smiled, and extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Garland.” She said. “I’m Cecil Palmer’s doctor.”

Carlos nodded. “How is he?” He asked. “I mean, am I allowed to know?”

Dr. Garland nodded. “We contacted his doctor in his hometown, Dr. Theodore Williams, and he sent over his emergency files and medical history forms in an email. You were listed as Mr. Palmer’s immediate contact, in front of a Mrs. Josie Foster.”

Carlos let out a sigh of relief. At least he’d be able to gain any knowledge and sign any legal papers needed on Cecil’s behalf.

“It’s interesting, actually.” Dr. Garland said as she and Carlos dropped hands. “When we contacted Dr. Williams, he griped about how late we were calling into the night, though our clocks say that it should only be two hours behind us. He said it was four in the morning when I called him; he said I’d woken him up.” Dr. Garland shrugged. “I suppose his clocks could have been wrong. Going on, yes, you are Mr. Palmer’s emergency contact, and therefore I am allowed to release any and all information to you.”

“Is he…” Carlos swallowed. “Is he alright?”

Dr. Garland smiled. “He’s fine.” She answered. “He’s lucky, really. He got out of there with only minor injuries, including a mild concussion, a broken middle and ring finger on his right hand, contusions to the head, and some bruising. He’ll be really sore for a couple of days, and probably more tired than usual, but I expect him to make a full recovery.” She looked at him pointedly, her green eyes fierce. “Although, I cannot say I condone you bringing him here yourself. He could have sustained further damage had his injuries been more intensive.”

Carlos saw Carmen cross her arms and give him her trademark “told you so” smirk. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

Dr. Garland went on. “We had to stitch the wounds on his forehead and left temple. All in all, it totaled to fourteen. Those will need to stay clean and as dry as possible, so he’ll need to wash his hair in a sink, or with a waterproof bandage, until they can be removed. How long are you in town?”

“Until the 29th.” Carlos answered. “Then we have to go back to Arizona.”

The doctor nodded. “Then I’ll send a memo to Dr. Williams to remove them upon your return.” She said. She smiled at him again. “He’s awake. He’s been asking for you.”

Carlos’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting Cecil to be awake. A quick glance at the clock on the wall expelled the notion that it was necessarily ‘soon’; it was rapidly approaching six o’clock, and it had grown dark outside.

“If you’d like, I can take you back to see him.” Dr. Garland said. “I want to keep him overnight for observation, but I see no reason why he shouldn’t be able to return home tomorrow. I’d hate for him to have to spend Christmas Eve here.”

Carlos nodded. “Please.” He said.

Dr. Garland gestured to the doors. “If you’ll just follow me, then, I’ll take you to his room. I’m afraid I can’t let all of you in at once until we transfer him to a different room.” She looked sympathetically at Andre, José, and Carmen.

“That’s alright, Hailey.” Carmen said. “We’re patient.”

Dr. Garland laughed. “More so than others, I’d say, Carmen.” She said. She turned back to Carlos. “This way.”

Carlos glanced at his siblings and father one last time. José gave him a curt nod, and a small smile.

“Go.” He said. “He’s waiting.”

Carlos turned and followed Dr. Garland through the doors into the hallway. They turned the corner twice: once to the left, and then to the right, and Dr. Garland paused outside of a closed door labeled Room 19.

“He’s inside.” She said. “Try to be gentle with him, since he’s still pretty banged up, but he should be fine.”

“Thank you, Dr. Garland.” Carlos said. “For everything.”

Dr. Garland smiled and nodded, but said nothing more as she brushed past him. Carlos quickly grasped the handle of the door and turned it, slipping inside without bothering to shut the door behind him.

Cecil was laying on a hospital bed, dressed in pale blue scrubs, propped up against several pillows. He held the remote to the tiny TV mounted on the wall in his hand, and he was absentmindedly flipping through the channels with his left hand. An IV was stuck into the back of his right hand, where his two broken fingers were tied together in splints. Even from his place near the door, Carlos can see the stitches that neatly lined down Cecil’s left temple, and above his left eyebrow. He was pale, paler than usual by at least a shade, and the purple ink of his tattoos stood out starkly against his pallid skin, and Carlos found himself musing that he wished they would move again.

He must have heard Carlos enter, because he turned his head and his face brightened like a lightbulb when he laid eyes on his boyfriend standing in the doorway. He smiled, tiredly.

“Hey.” He said. His voice – god, that voice – was barely above a whisper, but Carlos didn’t care; he heard him loud enough.

Carlos did not consider himself impulsive, he did not consider himself hasty; he’d always been somewhat reserved and shy, bordering on awkward at times, even in all the months he and Cecil had spent together. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to show the same kind of reverence. His hands were in Cecil’s disheveled white-blond hair in an instant, his lips peppering kisses to his scalp as he fought against the new onslaught of tears that rushed to his eyes entirely unexpectedly. His emotions, for the thousandth time in several hours, surged like a hurricane, threatening to drown him in the relief and complete adoration he felt spread from his toes to his head; but the sharp pain at the center of his chest only constricted further as the lump at the back of his throat grew larger, and he swallowed before taking in a shaky breath, his nose buried in Cecil’s hair, inhaling the scent of the hospital shampoo and antiseptic, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

“Cecil,” he breathed. “God, Cecil…”

Cecil raised his hand, and gently caressed the skin at the back of Carlos’s neck, his splinted fingers stiff and awkwardly immobile, but Carlos found himself reveling in the simple touch.

“Perfectly imperfect Carlos,” Cecil whispered, his usually sonorous voice slightly scratchy and doused with painkillers. Carlos gave a strangled sob, his fingers pressing against Cecil’s head; not even three hours before, he had been absolutely terrified that he would never again hear that voice again, hear those enduring words again, and yet, by some miracle – Carlos was fairly certain he had several blessings to count – he had been deemed worthy of a second chance to hold the spectacular man before him.

“ _Dios mio,_ I thought I’d lost you.” He whispered. He moved his hands to gently cradle the other man’s face, carefully minding the stitches and the large bruise that had spread along Cecil’s right cheekbone. He pressed his forehead against Cecil’s, his eyes never leaving Cecil’s, and Cecil smiled at him warmly.

“I love you.” He said. “God, Cecil, I thought you were going to die, and I…”

He was cut off, rather abruptly, as Cecil pushed himself up onto his elbow and pressed his lips to Carlos’s, his hand finding its way into Carlos’s unruly curls, tenderly carding the soft strands through his long fingers. Carlos, though initially taken aback by the action, found himself returning the kiss in earnest, suddenly weak in the knees in a way he had not been in a long time, since he’d taken Cecil on their first date all those months ago, and he laid out a hand against the mattress of the bed for support so as to avoid collapsing on top of his bruised and sore boyfriend.

After a few moments that seemed to drag on into a meaningless void of time, they pulled apart, both slightly out of breath, their foreheads still pressed together, their eyes locked, gazes never leaving the others’.

“I thought I’d lost you.” Carlos repeated, softly, and he felt Cecil’s thumb gently wipe away a stray tear that had made its way down his face. “When you passed out in my arms in the back of the car, I thought you were going to die, and that I’d lost you.”

Cecil smiled, and nuzzled his nose against Carlos’s.

“Dearest Carlos, you can’t get rid of me _that_ easily.” He said.

Carlos gave a chuckle, managing a smile to match the tired one that graced Cecil’s handsome and familiar and _alive_ face as he lazily stroked Carlos’s hair.

Carlos pulled away and wrapped his hand around Cecil’s good hand, gently rubbing circles into his palm.

“I was scared.” He admitted quietly, unsure of what else to say.

Cecil swallowed, his smile faltering as he lowered his purple eyes to the blankets in his lap, guilt written across his face as clear as day.  

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I…I heard José say that I was a bad influence on you and I…I guess I thought that maybe it would be best if I left, if only for a little while, because maybe I wasn’t welcome anymore, and that maybe a drive would clear my head. And then a deer ran out in front of me – I’m not sure if the deer here have real estate representatives living within their stomachs, but if they do, then they are most definitely in need of symbiote-host communications classes – and the car was spinning, and…”

Carlos shook his head. “He was wrong, _querido._ ” He said as he reached out again and tentatively placed a hand along Cecil’s neck and jaw. “You are _nothing_ that he tried to say you are. You mean _everything_ to me, Cec, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, Carlos,” Cecil said as tears pricked at his eyes as his heart somersaulted again. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Carlos smiled at him, a true, brilliant, ear-to-ear smile this time, and leant down and captured Cecil’s lips with his own again.

“I’m not good with words like you are,” he whispered against Cecil’s lips as he pulled away. “I’m sorry if I don’t say it enough.”

Cecil grasped Carlos’s hand in his own.

 “That makes getting to hear it all the more precious,” he said.

They didn’t speak again for a little while after that, instead content to lean their foreheads together again and feel the others’ breath on their faces, their hands entwined, breathing in each other’s familiar scent and carbon dioxide, lost in the others’ eyes like it was the only sustenance they’d ever need.

As Cecil’s soft purple eyes caught at his soul and pounding heart, Carlos mused that there wasn’t a more beautiful sight in the entire universe.

And as his lips found Cecil’s once more, he mused that that was just fine by him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided, after two endings that were fairly cruel in their vague and cliffhanger-ness, I'd give you fluff instead. :) 
> 
> So what do we think of José now? Yeah, he's still an asshole, but...at least he's trying.
> 
> EDIT: Thank you SO MUCH to those who pointed out my flaws in Spanish translating! As I've stated before, I use Google Translate, as I am not fluent in the language by ANY means, and GT has, apparently, betrayed me just a bit. I really appreciate the tips!!!
> 
> \-----
> 
> Translations:  
> -hijo: "son"  
> -te quiero mucho, mi hijo: "I love you, my son"  
> -eres un idiota: "you idiot!" (Yes, this is the masculine form! I know; I got really confused, too...)


	12. Away in a Hospital Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> José and Cecil meet for the second first time, and Cecil's nightmare is not one of those mandated by City Council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that it's taken my so freaking long to write this newest chapter! I've had several tests come up that I had to study for, as well as some pretty interesting homework, and, of course, Valentine's Day (which my boyfriend and I spent in a pillow and blanket fort watching "The Princess Bride"). I also wrote a oneshot, which took about three days to write completely, so there's that... 
> 
> Anyway! This chapter is disappointingly shorter than my previous ones (only around 5,000 words in total) but I felt that continuing on with it like I had planned would take away from a lot of the content in this chapter, which is Cecil dealing with the aftermath of his accident, and the interactions between him and Carlos's father. 
> 
> So! I promise the next chapter will be coming SOON! I already have a lot of it planned out, and I'm starting to wonder if my commute to school tomorrow will be worth it with close to eight inches of snow expected tonight, and even if it is, I'll be able to write tomorrow afternoon. :) So watch for Abuela's entrance in the next chapter! I refuse to allude to her just yet, however. ;)
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Collide" by Howie Day

 

Carlos sighed as he laid his chin on his forearms as he leaned forward on Cecil’s hospital bed, quietly observing as his boyfriend slept peacefully on his side, facing Carlos, his bruised face serene. The back of the chair prodded a bit at his sternum from where he had turned it backwards, but he hardly noticed. He slowly reached out a hand to brush back Cecil’s hair from his forehead gently, but it did no good; the hair simply fell back where it had been, determined to have its way. He ghosted the pads of his fingers over Cecil’s closed eyelids, wondering what dreams laid beneath their surface. His thumb trailed to the line of eight stitches above Cecil’s left eyebrow, and with a pang, Carlos was thankful, for the umpteenth time, that he was alive. Alive, and here, with him.

He glanced at the clock on the far wall beyond Cecil’s bed. It proclaimed that the time was now nearing ten o’clock at night, and Carlos yawned sleepily. They’d been at the hospital for about seven hours, and he while he was glad that the worst was over, he still couldn’t help but groan at the prospect of sleeping in the uncomfortable hard converter chair in the corner.

“How is he?”

Carlos nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the voice from the doorway. He spun around, nearly toppling from his chair in the process, to find José leaning against the frame, his hands in his coat pockets.

“He’s sleeping, soundly, as usual.” Carlos responded as he stood to his feet, spinning the chair back around and placing it against the wall quietly so as to not drag the feet across the floor and disturb his boyfriend. “He’s still really sore, though he insists he’s fine. The painkillers knocked him out.”

José nodded, mutely, his blue eyes taking in the supine form of Cecil on the hospital bed, breathing deeply, his purple tattoos vivid against the pale skin of his arms; he remembered Carlos telling him that in Night Vale they had minds of their own, and often moved around Cecil’s skin like koi fish in a pond. He wondered what it was like.

“I brought you some dinner.” He said finally, tearing his eyes away from the man his son loved.  He held up an insulated lunch bag. “Your mother sent it over. We all figured you’d rather have this than the hospital buffet food.”

Carlos chuckled. “Hey, it’s not _all_ bad.” He said. “Although, I _did_ question the composition of the grilled cheese. Whatever they used to make it, it was most certainly not cheese.”

José smirked. “Hey, I lived on that stuff when your mother was in labor with you and your brother. By the time Carmen came along, I had learned my lesson.”

He handed Carlos the lunch box.

“ _Gracias._ ” Carlos said.

“It’s tequitos.” José said as Carlos eyed the lunchbox curiously. “Sorry they’re cold.”

“That’s alright. I can reheat them in the microwave downstairs in vending.” Carlos said as he sat the lunchbox on the chair in the corner with his coat and Cecil’s clothes.

“Are those yours?” José asked, nodding his head at the clothes.

Carlos shook his head.

“The shirt is, but the jeans are Cecil’s.” He answered. “At least he’ll have something to change into tomorrow.”

“Are they releasing him, then?”

“They’re discharging him tomorrow at noon.” Carlos answered. “Which means I’m not going to be able to go to the airport to pick up Abuela with you.”

“Don’t worry about that, _hijo._ ” José said. “Your mother has choir practice to prepare for midnight mass, so your sister and I are going to pick her up.”

Carlos nodded, growing quiet for a moment as he cast a glance at Cecil in the hospital bed.

“Why don’t you head home for a little while?” José suggested, breaking the silence. “Get a change of clothes, something to entertain yourself so you’re not just sitting there.”

Carlos shook his head.

“I can’t just leave him!” He said. “What if he woke up while I was gone?”

“I’ll stay with him.” José offered. “If he wakes up, I’ll tell him where you’ve gone.”

While the prospect of a change of clothes and a book sounded incredibly tempting, Carlos was hesitant to leave Cecil behind, especially with José. While he and José had had a moment of reconciliation earlier that evening in the chapel, José and Cecil had had yet to interact again, and he wasn’t sure if it were such a good idea to leave Cecil here to possibly wake up to him. Not just yet.

“I don’t know…” He said.

“Carlos.” José’s voice was stern. “Go home. Get a change of clothes, a shower. I’ll stay with Cecil. If he needs you, I’ll call you. Andre left you with his car, did he not?”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah, and he hitched a ride back with Carmen. But, Dad, listen, I…”

José shook his head, and held up a hand to cut off his son.

“I know why you’re hesitant to leave him with me.” He said softly. “And I understand. But I promise you, he will be fine, and I’m sure he’ll understand your reasoning. If nothing else, there are a few words I need to say to him when he wakes up, and I’d like to do so before he comes home tomorrow, if possible.”

Carlos sighed. “You’re not leaving me with much of a choice, are you?”

José smiled. “Not one.” He replied. “Now go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can return.”

Carlos dared one last glance at the sleeping form of his boyfriend before he nodded, slowly.

“Alright.” He consented. “I’ll be back within an hour. If he wakes up, text me.”

“I will.” José promised.

Carlos gathered his coat, pulling it on over his hoodie, and tucked his phone protectively into the pocket that contained the remains of Cecil’s broken glasses. He walked over to Cecil’s bedside and pressed a gentle kiss to his hair, softly murmuring “I love you” into the white-blond strands. He nodded to his father and dug the keys Andre had left for him from his pocket, and headed to the door.

José watched him go, and let out a sigh as his son quietly shut the door behind him. He looked back at Cecil, who had smiled in his sleep, and shifted so that his back was to José, and smirked lightly before he settled himself into the hard vinyl of the chair in the corner, and waited.

 

...oOo...

 

The first thing Cecil noticed as he fought his way to consciousness through the muddled waters of painkillers was that he _hurt._ All over. His entire body was aching and horribly sore, and he slowly pulled himself from sleep with fractal movements, starting with his fingers and toes and moving his way upwards, assessing the aches and pains as he did so. Two of his fingers wouldn’t move at all, and were wrapped in something thick and hard, probably the cause of the immobilization. His back ached like he had been lying for too long on a hard surface, and he wondered, vaguely, if he had fallen asleep on top of his desk at the station again; it never seemed to like him taking naps on it. He quickly banished that thought as he prodded at the surface beneath his fingers and found it to be firm, but malleable, and thus deductive reasoning indicated that it had to be a mattress. It was a bit harder than his liking, however, so he supposed that was where he had gathered his desk hypothesis, and the low ache in his back.

His head hurt most of all, though. A migraine had imbedded itself within the confines of his skull, and he could feel every beat his heart took as it pounded in his ears. It hurt most just above his left eyebrow, where the skin felt stiff and pinched, as well as along his left temple. He furrowed his brow, only to wince as he did so as whatever it was making his eyebrow hurt pulled taut.

The second thing Cecil noticed, as he finally blinked open his bleary eyes, was that the world was blurry. Not horribly so, but enough for him to realize that he was without his glasses. Instinctively, he reached out with his left hand to grope for them beside him, but his fingers brushed against nothing but air. Dammit. They must have fallen.

The third thing he noticed was that he was most definitely _not_ in his room in his apartment. For one thing, there was no good morning message from the Faceless Old Woman written in peach jelly on his ceiling; this ceiling was blank, a pale mint green color, and made from foam tiles instead of smooth plaster, and his fan was missing. And despite the slight blurriness, he could tell that the walls were not painted the sage green that his were, and were instead a creamy off-white. How bland.

The fourth thing he noticed, as his memory began to slowly trickle back to him – car accident, hospital, broken fingers, concussion, stitches – was that the dark skinned man in the chair next to his bed was most definitely _not_ Carlos.

“José?” He croaked, wincing at how abrasive his voice sounded. If it stayed like that for very long, Station Management would throw a fit.

José nodded as he drew himself out of the chair and came closer to Cecil’s bedside, and his face swam more into focus as he did so.

“Hello _._ ” He greeted, his usually gruff voice soft and quiet.

Cecil blinked. “Where’s Carlos?” He asked.

“I sent him home.” José explained. “To get a change of clothes and a shower.”

“Oh.” Cecil said. He found himself suddenly incredibly uneasy. He and José had had a rocky relationship to begin with, but they hadn’t interacted at all since earlier that morning, and even then, that hadn’t been much more than a few words exchanged across the breakfast table. And after what Cecil had overheard him saying to Carlos…

“I told him I’d stay with you until he got back, so you wouldn’t be alone if you woke up.” José went on. “He should be back any time He’s been gone about thirty minutes, give or take.”

 _I hope he returns soon._ Cecil couldn’t help but think as he picked at the edges of the tape that held his IV in the top veins of his right hand, unable to force himself to look at the man his boyfriend called father.

After a few moments of awkward silence, José sighed.

“Look, Cecil…” He began, and Cecil glanced up at him. “I know I’m probably not high on the list of people you’d like to see right now, but I didn’t get a chance to speak with you following the car accident, and there are a few things I needed to say.”

Cecil nodded slowly. “Alright.” He consented.

José looked like he was chewing the inside of his cheek, and Cecil wondered what was making him seem so nervous. Up until now, José had always projected an aura of confidence, of authority and surety, and now he looked as though he were unsure where to begin.

It was also the first time he’d heard José say his name since he’d met him.

“I want to apologize.” José said. “For the things I said back at the house. I said some things that were incredibly hurtful, and I was wrong. I was wrong to judge you before I got to know you properly, and I was wrong to believe that I did not want to. What I said, I said out of anger, and frustration.”

Cecil swallowed, and chewed on his bottom lip. José continued.

“I’m sorry, Cecil. If you’ll accept my apology, I’d like for us to begin again, to try again. My son…Carlos cares about you, and you care about him, do you not?”

“Of course I do!” Cecil’s eyes widened. How could José question such a thing?!

José gave him a small smile.

“I know you do. You would not have come here if you didn’t care about him.” He said. “You are not a bad influence on him. I can see now, from what Carlos has told me, and from what I have observed in only the last few hours, that you are good for Carlos. You keep him centered, grounded, and focused on what is truly important in life, and not just science. He’s happier than he’s been in a long time, less stressed, less serious. You bring out the _best_ in my son, Cecil. Not the worst. I was wrong to ever think or say otherwise.”

He took another deep breath.

“I apologize, from the depths of my heart, for what I’ve done to hurt you, and to hurt Carlos. If you will allow me, I would like to get to know you better, for however long you choose to put up with my son.”

Cecil smirked at José’s attempt at humor, and measured his offer for a moment.

Cecil did not consider himself unforgiving. Prone to holding a grudge, yes; Telly the barber, the tiny people below Lane 5, the Apache Tracker (Steve Carlsberg did not count; he’d always been a jerk). But unforgiving? No. And while José had given him ample reasons to decline his offer, he had, in apologizing and admitting he was wrong, given him reasons to accept as well.

He thought back to the last few days, and the events that had led him here. While Cecil still had yet to meet Carlos’s abuela, the rest of the Ramirez family had done nothing short of make him feel welcome, like he was a part of their family. He thought about Maria, and her warmth and motherly affection. He thought about Carmen, and how they had struck up a friendship before they had even met face to face. Ashley, and her sweet disposition, and he remembered the morning in the kitchen when she had pressed his palm against her belly to feel the child in her womb kick, despite having only just met him the day before. Andre, who had made it a point to let Cecil know he considered him a member of his family. The kids, who could have easily shied away from Cecil, and his weird tales of Night Vale and inability to cook gingerbread, but had instead embraced him as their adopted uncle without question.

He wanted very, very much to be a part of Carlos’s family.

 And while yes, their relationship had been rocky at the start, Cecil knew that no family was perfect: they, like his Carlos, were perfectly imperfect, and they became perfect when you learned to accept them for who they really are.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Cecil finally extended his right hand, which still had the IV attached, and his splinted fingers ached viciously.

“Apology accepted.” He said, smiling. “Shall we start again?”

José blinked, clearly surprised, and fully prepared to be met with rejection, and then smiled as he clasped Cecil’s hand in his own.

“Hello. I’m Cecil.” Cecil introduced himself, grinning, his purple eyes shining despite the fatigue that pinched at the corners.

“ _Hola,_ Cecil. I’m José. Nice to finally meet you.”

 

...oOo...

 

Carlos had to admit, he felt _much_ better now that he had grabbed a shower and a pair of clean clothes to change into in the morning, for both him, and Cecil, as well as his phone charger and a book to read. He had called Dana on his way back, and filled her in on the newest information about Cecil’s condition. Dana had been thrilled to hear that he was going to be alright, and had asked Carlos to have Cecil call her as soon as he could.

(She had also informed Carlos that she would _not_ be hitting him with a Hachenburg fish, of which, Carlos was extremely grateful.)

He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder as he hoisted it from the floorboard of the backseat and closed the door, locking the minivan behind him as he walked towards the general admission lobby of the hospital. Cecil was on the second floor, so he opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator, and his room was only a few steps away from the stairwell door.

He quietly slipped inside the room without knocking, and let the door remain open.

José was sitting in the vinyl converter chair in the corner that Carlos had already resigned himself to calling his bed for the night, the remote to the television in his hand as he quietly flipped through the muted channels. Cecil was curled up on the bed, still fast asleep, but he had turned his back to the doorway, the covers pulled up to his chin.

Carlos nodded at his father as he entered.

“Hey.” He said, softly. “Everything alright here?”

José nodded. “He woke up, about thirty minutes after you left.” He said. “We talked for a little while before the drugs kicked back in and he fell asleep.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you call me?” He asked. “I would have come straight back!”

José shook his head. “He was fine. We spoke, got to know each other a little better. I apologized to him, just as I apologized to you.”

“What did he say?”

“I did not expect him to forgive me as easily as he did.” José admitted. “But he listened to what I had to say, and we shook on new terms.” He shook his head. “I do not believe I deserve the forgiveness he gave so freely, but…I’m glad that he did.”

Carlos smiled, his brown eyes soft as he crossed the room to press a kiss to Cecil’s stitched temple.

“He's prone to holding grudges, believe me.” He chuckled lightly as he pulled away and faced José again. “He had the barber run out of town for cutting my hair in the first couple months I was in Night Vale.”

José frowned. “That’s a bit excessive, wouldn’t you say so?”

Carlos shrugged. “Honestly, it was a pretty bad cut.” He said. “And Telly was sort of insane, anyway…he tried to give cacti trims every once in a while, so if that doesn’t tell you a little bit about his competence in cutting human hair, I don’t know what will.”

José shook his head again. “There are things about this new home of yours I will never understand.” He said. “But I suppose it is best this way.”

Carlos smirked. “Maybe.” He agreed.

José sat down the remote on the arm of the chair and stood to his feet, grabbing his hunters jacket from the back.

“I should be getting back.” He said. “I have to go get your grandmother from the airport by noon, and I’ll have to leave around nine thirty to beat traffic.”

Carlos nodded. “Be careful out there; the roads are still a little slick.”

“I will.” José promised. He looked back at Cecil, and gave a nod in his direction. “He’s a good man, Carlito.” He said quietly, clasping his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You chose well.”

Carlos smiled as he watched Cecil twitch in his sleep.

“You know?” He said after a moment. “I think so, too.”

 

...oOo...

 

_Cecil gasped, falling to his knees, as his breath was stolen from him as another wave of pain stabbed at his heart violently, threatening to rip it straight from his chest, still beating, and crush it beneath the heel of a sharp boot._

_“No, please…” He begged as his arms reached out towards the empty air before him. “Please!”_

_Sand stung his eyes as the wind began to whirl around him, kicking up the tiny particles in sporadic, microscopic tornadoes that scrapped at his skin and forced its way into his nose and mouth, clinging to the wet skin of his cheeks where tears coursed in rivers._

_“Please!” He called into the howling wind. “Please, don’t leave me here!”_

_There was no answer as the sandstorm raged on around him, closing in on him, threatening to consume him whole, suck him into oblivion._

_“Carlos, please!” He sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “Please, Carlos, don’t leave! Carlos!”_

_The wind was setting stronger, and he suddenly felt himself being thrown to the ground._

_“Carlos!” He screamed. “I’m sorry, please, don’t leave! **Carlos!** Car—”_

Cecil gasped as he was thrown headfirst back into consciousness, the muddy waters of the drugs coursing through his body suddenly gone like a counteractive. Cold sweat poured down his face in a way he had not experienced in quite some time (he _had_ grown up in a desert, after all), and his hands were shaking as he grasped the sheets of his hospital bed in his fists. His sore body protested furiously at the sudden, jerking movements of his sitting up in the bed, and the room was still indistinct from the lack of his glasses.

A dream. Nothing more than a dream.

A horrible dream, but just a dream nonetheless.

Cecil ran his left hand through his blond hair shakily, trying in vain to gather enough air to calm himself down. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum, beating against his palm as he pressed it there, and he couldn’t seem to get his breathing right again.

He glanced to his left, towards the blurry corner of the room, where José had been the last time he’d fallen asleep. Instead of José, however, he could make out the familiar form of Carlos asleep in the chair, his head laying on his arms on the armrest.

Without thinking twice, Cecil threw the sheets off of his sweaty body and sat his bare feet on the cool tiled floor. He wrapped his hand around the IV pole and tested the wheels to make sure they weren’t locked before he stood, a little unsteadily, to his feet, and quickly made his way towards Carlos’s sleeping form in the chair in the corner.

He didn’t hesitate to lower himself into the small space between Carlos and the other arm rest of the chair, but instead he ended up tripping slightly and falling halfway into Carlos’s lap, slumping forward against Carlos’s sleeping form.

Carlos awoke with a start, jumping slightly, and Cecil cursed himself for being so clumsy. He hadn’t intended to awaken the scientist, just be near him for a few minutes, if only to remind himself that he was still there, but the deed had been done. He whimpered piteously, partially from embarrassment, and partially from the terror that still had a hold on his heart like a vice.

“Jesus, Cecil!” Carlos said as he became fully aware of who it was that had woken him. In a second he had scooped Cecil into his arms and had stood, crossing the room to gently deposit him back on the bed. “What are you doing?! You’ll pull your IV right out of your hand!”

 Cecil clung to Carlos’s Yankees hoodie, the soft fabric twisted in his fisted hands, and he pressed his forehead against Carlos’s chest. He gave a strangled sob against his better judgment, and he felt Carlos’s gentle hands stroking his back as his body continued to shake. The tears finally began to flow, freely, and he didn’t even bother to try and stop them.  

“Shhh, hey, it’s okay.” Carlos whispered. “You’re okay, you’re safe. Nothing is wrong.”

Cecil took in a gasping breath, trying to regain his composure, but instead found himself hit once more by the agonizing memory of the nightmare, and shook his head against Carlos’s chest, as though trying to burrow himself into the scientist’s body.

Carlos rubbed gentle circles into the shaking radio host’s shoulder blades and tight muscles, and let the man sob against him. After a few minutes, Cecil finally began to calm down, and Carlos pulled him away from him to look at him.

“Shhhh, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Are you okay?”

Cecil shook his head. “I…I had a nightmare.” He said, quietly, his baritone, usually so rich and full of charge and confidence, small and frightened. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry. I just…I just needed to be close to you for a minute.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Carlos soothed as he slipped a comforting arm around Cecil’s trembling form. “You need to calm down, or they’re going to think you’re having a heart attack in here.” He looked pointedly at the machine attached to the IV pole that monitored Cecil’s heart rate.

Cecil shook his head, vividly remembering the pain that had suffocated like a boa constrictor around his heart and soul, and reckoned that it was close enough to a heart attack.

“What happened?” Carlos said softly as he continued to card his fingers through Cecil’s hair.

“Y-You didn’t want me anymore. You said so.” Cecil croaked. “Y-You said that you didn’t love me anymore, and you left me alone somewhere, and you said you wouldn’t care if I died out there.”

He felt Carlos stiffen beneath his touch, taking in a sharp intake of breath, before he pulled away from his boyfriend. He then proceeded to very carefully hoist himself into the hospital bed beside Cecil, propping himself up against the pillows. He then very gently took Cecil into his arms and leant him against his chest again, and Cecil laid his head against his shoulder, nestling himself against Carlos’s side. Carlos pressed a kiss to his forehead and went back to stroking Cecil’s hair.

“Oh, Cecil,” he breathed. “I am _always_ going to want you, _querido._ There’s nothing you could ever do in this world – or any other, for that matter – to make me not want you.You mean everything to me. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not going to stop loving you. Nothing, and no one, is ever going to change that. I promise.”

Cecil sniffed, fighting against the thudding rhythm of his heartbeat as his breathing began to slowly even out, mingling with Carlos’s.

“On science?” He finally choked.

“On science.” Carlos confirmed, and he dropped his hand from Cecil’s hair and wound it gently around his slim frame. “And on you.”

Cecil smiled against his fear, and felt some of it begin to dissipate like mist in the sun as Carlos’s fingers began to trace the lines of Cecil’s tattoos from his shoulder to his back, just as he had done so many times while they had laid in bed together, sharing in post-coital breath catching and dozing lightly next to one another. Cecil relaxed into his gentle, ghosting touch, and he could almost feel his tattoos shuddering pleasantly, as they always did when Carlos touched them, even though he knew they were not moving at all (they were beginning to itch, he noted dryly, and reminded himself to pick up some oatmeal lotion from the drugstore before too much longer to help appease them once they were allowed to move again).

“I love you.” He whispered hoarsely. “I love you so much.”

“ _Te amo, tambien, mi amor.”_ Carlos whispered against his stitched temple. “Go back to sleep.”

“Stay here?” Cecil raised his head, his purple eyes meeting brown. “Please?”

Carlos smiled at him and he tightened his grip around the radio host as he adjusted himself a bit.

“Sure.”

Cecil sniffed, and smiled, nestling himself back against the scientist. Carlos used his foot to kick the blankets back up towards him, and pulled it around their bodies, tucking the edges around Cecil like a cocoon.

“Carlos?” Cecil whispered after a few moments of silence, save for the more steadily beeping of his heart monitor.

“Hm?” Carlos grunted, raising his head and cracking open his eyes to peer down at Cecil.

“Thank you.” Cecil said. “For…for saving me.”

Carlos smiled and closed his eyes, laying his head back again.

“I think you saved me first.” He mumbled.

“I’m glad I did, then.”

“Me, too.”

Cecil, minding his broken fingers, curled his arms around the scientist’s body, and rested his head on Carlos’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, and let out a shaky, but content, sigh.

He fell asleep there, pressed against his perfectly imperfect Carlos in the strict confines of the hospital bed, with Carlos’s arms around his body protectively, and he did not have any more nightmares.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also...
> 
> CONDOS. HOLY CRAP CONDOS. 
> 
> SO MANY FEELS OH MY GOD. I LOVE THESE DORKS SO FREAKING MUCH. 
> 
> Also, DANA!!!!!!
> 
> \-------
> 
> Translations:  
> -hola: "hello"  
> -te amo, tambien, mi amor: "I love you, too, my love"


	13. All I Want for Christmas is a Nap or Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil is released from the hospital, Gracie has a headcanon, Carlos makes lunch, and naps are insisted upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize GREATLY for the amount of time it took me to get this update out there! The day after I posted the previous chapter, I experienced one of the greatest horrors known to writer's everywhere: my computer crashed. How, you may ask? Well, for one thing, it was a five year old Dell; the poor thing was bound to croak eventually. But the killing blow came in the form of a Starbucks gift card accidentally getting itself lodged and broken off into the mainframe of my computer. I am not entirely sure of how it happened, but it happened. LUCKILY, God was watching out for me because I WAS able to save all of the files on my hard drive before the thing went kaput forever! Talk about a narrow avoidance! 
> 
> Then, the day after my laptop died, my car (affectionately and appropriately named Cecil) decided that he is a diva and promptly broke down. The clutch and flywheel have to be replaced, which is costing me over a grand, and so I picked up some extra hours at work to help pay some of the expenses, as well as have a little to spare for when I go see Night Vale live in Detroit the 24th. 
> 
> This chapter was INCREDIBLY hard to for me to write, because it's mostly filler. It's SUPER UBER TOOTH ROTTINGLY FLUFF, however, to make up for the angst I put everyone through the last couple chapters. :) But! Now we can move on!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for listening to my rant, dear listeners! Enjoy! Thank you all so much for being patient with me!!!!!
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Death Valley" by Fall Out Boy

 

“Alright, Mr. Palmer,” Dr. Garland intoned gently but firmly as she took one last blood pressure reading. “I want you to promise you’re going to take it easy for the next couple weeks, okay? No roughhousing, no jumping out of planes, no extreme sports, and absolutely no more car accidents. Are we clear?”

Cecil chuckled as he nodded. “Crystal,” he confirmed.

Dr. Garland smiled as she removed the blood pressure cuff from his upper arm, and Cecil was allowed to roll down the sleeve of the hoodie Carlos had brought him.

“I’ve contacted your doctor back in Arizona, Dr. Williams.” She informed him. “You’re set to get your stitches out after the first of the year, and for the next thirty six to forty eight hours, I want them as dry as possible. Wash your hair in a sink, or waterproof bandages. You’re still going to be a bit more tired than usual because of your concussion, and any headaches you develop should be mild, and can be taken care of with ibuprofen.”

Cecil nodded. “Thank you.”

Dr. Garland went on, “I’ve called ahead to the pharmacy here in town, and Mr. Ramirez will take you to pick up your pain meds prescription on your way home. Take them as you need them.”

“Is everything in order for my insurance?” Cecil questioned, daring a glance at Carlos out of the corner of his eye, who stood beside him.

Dr. Garland nodded. “Paid in full.” She said. “Whatever insurance you have through your job, your bosses certainly want you protected, and they’re generous in their coverage.”

Carlos laughed, and Cecil blinked in surprise. As the Voice of Night Vale, of course he had been given benefits and medical insurance, and all the protections therein, but he had never really had a reason to use them, not even calling in sick when he had been struck by the Avian Dung Beetle Flu four years before, and thus, had not known the extent of their coverage until now. Station Management certainly wanted him to remain in his position for quite some time, then.

“You have no idea.” Carlos mumbled as he laid his hand on Cecil’s shoulder. He looked at Dr. Garland, and extended his hand. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for us.”

Dr. Garland shook his hand. “My pleasure.” She assured them both. “Watch those fingers, got it? It’ll be February before you’re fully ready to use them again, so you might have some trouble writing or typing, and ordinary household chores until then.”

Cecil shrugged. “I’m ambidextrous.” He said. “My left hand could use the workout.”

His doctor shook her head, but remained smiling. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Palmer.” She said, handing Cecil a set of papers from her clipboard.  “These are your discharge papers. You’re all set.” She held out her hand.

“Just Cecil, please.” Cecil said, taking her hand. “Thank you again.”

“Any day.” Dr. Garland said, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.  “Merry Christmas to you both.”

“And you as well.” Carlos said with a nod.

“Oh, and Mr. Ramirez? Please tell Carmen that I’d love to get coffee sometime after work. Have her get in touch with me.” Dr. Garland said over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.

“I will.” Carlos promised.

With that, Dr. Garland left the room, leaving the two men behind.

Carlos let out a sigh of relief and looked at Cecil. “Ready to go?”

Cecil nodded. “This mattress is absolutely _atrocious._ ” He said as he slowly stood to his feet and stretched, wincing slightly as he did so. “My desk at work is softer than it is!”

Carlos chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.” He said. He walked over to the chair in the corner and grabbed his coat, shrugging it on, and slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder. He looked back at Cecil.

“Are you sure you want to walk?” He asked. “I think they can get you a wheelchair, if you’re still too sore.”

Cecil waved his hand at him dismissively. “I’m perfectly fine, my dear Carlos.” He said. “A bit sore, yes, but completely capable of carrying myself.”

“Sorry.” Carlos apologized as he walked over and took Cecil’s hand. “I’m just worried about you is all.”

“I’ll be okay.” Cecil promised.

“Are you hungry?” Carlos asked as they began their walk towards the door. “We can stop and get something on the way, if you want. Mamá had choir practice, and Dad and Carmen are gone to pick up Abuela from the airport and won’t be back until around three, so I don’t think anyone made lunch at home. Not unless Andre decided to cook, and believe me, that would result in nothing but the house burning down.”

Cecil laughed. “I’m sure your brother isn’t _that_ horrible at cooking!”

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. “I remember when we were teenagers, Andre decided to try and cook a steak. Not only did he end up scorching the frying pan, but he also somehow managed to create a doorstop out of the steak. Or, at least he would have, had our dog Louise not eaten it.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better about my inability to properly cook gingerbread?” Cecil asked coyly.

“Absolutely not.” Carlos said, grinning. “That steak was horrendous. Almost as bad as unicorn bacon.” He winked.

Cecil laughed, lightly, wincing slightly as the bruises on his ribcage were pulled with the action.

“I’m fine.” He assured Carlos when his boyfriend raised a concerned, inquisitive eyebrow. “Just can’t laugh too hard is all.”

Carlos clasped Cecil’s hand in his own tightly, and they walked the rest of the way out of the hospital in silence. Andre’s minivan was waiting in the parking lot for them, and Carlos deposited the duffle bag in the backseat as Cecil slid into the passenger’s seat.

Christmas music poured from the radio as Carlos started the car and put in into reverse, and he quickly turned it down as he shifted into drive.

Cecil squinted at the discharge papers in his hand, bringing them close to his face in order to read the small print. His eyes began to hurt from the strain before he could finish even a sentence, and he sighed in frustration as he sat back in the seat. Carlos had told him that the airbag had snapped his glasses clean in half, and Cecil cursed himself for not carrying a spare pair with him at all times. He wondered if it would be possible to have Dana overnight him his spare pair, if he told her the password for the lock to his apartment door, but then he remembered that the post office had been put under quarantine until the conclusion of the holidays due to the infestation of Christmas Flittle Flint Worms in the walls, so the possibility of that were slim to none. That, and the fact that the package was far more likely to get lost in transit from Night Vale than it was to actually get to him before he got home.

“Here.” Carlos said, chuckling as he dug into his pocket and produced something, pressing it into Cecil’s hand. “I had to improvise, but they should hold up until we get back to Night Vale.”

His glasses!

Cecil grinned as he slipped the purple rims onto his face, and the world swam into brilliant, blessed clarity.

“Oooh, Carlos, you fixed my glasses with science!” He gushed.

Carlos grinned lopsidedly. “Super glue, actually.” He said. “But I guess it counts.”

Ignoring the protests from his sore body, Cecil leant over the center console to press a kiss to Carlos’s stubbled cheek.

“Thank you.” He said.

“ _De nada._ ” Carlos answered, smiling.

As Carlos ducked inside the local pharmacy to pick up Cecil’s pain meds, Cecil dug his cell phone from the duffle bag in the backseat, grateful that Carlos had thought to turn it off and preserve the remaining battery power.

He noticed that he had four missed calls from Dana, two from Old Woman Josie, and one from – _ugh_ – Steve Carlsberg. He had at least fourteen text messages, most of which were from Dana. He listened to a few of the voicemails, not even bothering with the one from – _ugh_ – Steve Carlsberg. Most of Dana’s messages were updates about the station and how things were going, and that she hoped he felt better soon. He sent her a quick text to let her know he was fine, and feeling better, and out of the hospital just as Carlos walked out of the pharmacy, a plastic bag in one hand, and Cecil’s medication in the other.

“Sorry it took me a while.” He apologized, handing Cecil the paper bag with his medication inside. “They had to look up your insurance, and make sure I was authorized to pick it up, even though the hospital sent over your records.”

“It’s fine.” Cecil assured him as he read the label to the meds. “I texted Dana to let her know I’m out of the hospital.”

“Good.” Carlos nodded. “By the way, what’s a Hachenburg fish? Because she threatened to hit me with one yesterday when I told her about your accident if I didn’t keep her up to date about your condition.”

Cecil winced. “It’s a fish native to the Night Vale Waterfront. It’s about the size of a smallish tuna, with bubblegum colored scales and teeth like a shark. It’s harmless, but it’s hefty, and when slapped with one…well, let’s not go into details, shall we?”

Carlos shuddered slightly. “Agreed.”

The rest of the ride back to Maria and José’s was spent in companionable silence, with Carlos’s hand on top of Cecil’s on the center console.

As they drove down the street, Cecil couldn’t help but glance out the window at the snow covered hills that surrounded them. Upstate New York truly _was_ beautiful in the winter, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like when everything was lush and green with the summer. He remembered Carlos telling about how the fireflies would conjugate in the fields at dusk, and how when you looked out over them, it was like watching a light show, and he wished he could see it; perhaps Carlos would bring him back in the summertime, next time?

As Carlos made the turn that would take them down the street to his parents’ house, Cecil’s attention was drawn, however, to the other side of the road, where a very familiar tree stood.

“Is that…” Cecil began, before he stopped himself. The bark on the tree had been stripped away across a large area of the trunk, and even without being right next to it, Cecil could still see the faint streaks of dark red paint on the white underbelly of the wood.

Carlos nodded, slowly, and continued past the scene. Cecil noticed that there were several black tire tracks etched into the pavement of the road, though there were none visible in the snow itself, presumably from the snow that had filled them during the storm.

“Carlos,” Cecil said finally, and Carlos’s fingers curled into his atop his hand. “Carlos, I am _so sorry_ about what happened…”

Carlos shook his head. “No, Cecil, don’t be.” He said quickly. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I do!” Cecil insisted. “I never should have taken the car like that, not when I know next to nothing about driving in snow…it was terribly selfish of me, and I…I’m sorry. For putting you…for doing that to you.”

“Hey.” Carlos pulled the car off to the shoulder of the road, and placed it in park. He turned himself around in the driver’s seat to face Cecil. He took the hand he had been holding and held it between both of his, squeezing it reassuringly. Cecil kept his gaze locked on his free hand in his lap, refusing to meet Carlos’s eyes. “Cecil, look at me.”

Cecil raised his purple eyes to meet Carlos’s brown, expecting, perhaps, anger, or sadness, or anything but the softness he found instead.

“You have _nothing_ to apologize for, _querido._ Nothing. You were upset, and you reacted by removing yourself from a situation that made you uncomfortable. I can’t blame you for that. When I found out you had left, I was on my way out the door myself, ready to grab you and take us to a hotel room in town. So please, don’t apologize. What happened was an accident.”

Cecil shook his head. “But that doesn’t excuse my reckless and thoughtless behavior.” He said. “I wrecked the car, and caused you and your family extreme amounts of grief and worry.”

“Cecil, I don’t care about the car.” Carlos said, running his thumb over Cecil’s knuckles. “I care that you’re safe, and that you’re here, with me, right now.”

“Oh, Carlos,” Cecil smiled as he felt some of the guilt lift from his shoulders, once again making his aura lighter and much more easy to bear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Carlos smiled back, and leant over to press a gentle kiss between Cecil’s eyes. “Now, let’s get home. It’s Christmas Eve! Abuela will be here in a few hours, and Mamá still has to cook, and I’m sure the kids are going to pester us both for hints about their presents.”

Cecil nodded, and grinned. “And, of course, there’s always Santa Claus, who will be making his global rounds tonight.”

Carlos chuckled. “Oh yeah. I remember when I was a kid, Andre, Carmen, and I tried to stay up all night with our old Polaroids to see if we couldn’t get some proof that he was real. We fell asleep before we could, though, and we woke up the next morning in our own beds, so…” He shrugged.

“Your parents must have put you there.” Cecil nodded.

Carlos grinned. “For a long time, we thought it was Santa that had put us back in bed.” He said. “I was, what, eight at the time? Which made Andre about ten, and Carmen four. I don’t think it dawned on us that it was our parents until well after we stopped believing in Santa.”

Cecil laughed, ignoring the tight pull of pain from his bruised torso. “I’m sure my brother and I did the same thing, when we were kids.” He said. He swallowed, thickly, at the vague memory of his brother’s youthful face. He fell silent, and chewed his bottom lip.

What would it be like, if his brother were still here?

Carlos must have noticed his fall into silence, because he reached out a hand and placed it on Cecil’s knee as he turned the corner onto the next road, guiding it past the rolling hills.

“On the way to the hospital, I tried to keep you talking, so you’d stay awake.” He explained. “I don’t know if you remember it or not, but you said you remembered what your brother looked like, and what his name was.”

Cecil shook his head. “I don’t remember telling you that.” He said. “I remember you talking to me, vaguely, but most of it is jumbled and hazy.”

Carlos nodded, slowly.

“Mostly it was me telling you not to die.” He said softly. “And that you were going to be okay.”

Cecil said nothing, instead opting to reach out and stroke the top of Carlos’s hand soothingly before he pulled it back to the steering wheel as he pulled into the driveway of José and Maria’s house.

“What did I say?” He asked finally. “About my brother?”

Carlos glanced at him.

“Well, you said he was older than you, but you didn’t say by how much.” He began. He reached out and ran a hand through Cecil’s white-blond hair lovingly. “You said he had hair like yours, but it was darker. You also said he was as stubborn as you, sometimes.”

Cecil closed his eyes as he smiled and leant into Carlos’s gentle touch, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against his scalp.

“What was his name?”

Cecil’s eyes flew open, and he blinked, wide-eyed, at Carlos for a moment as he allowed the scientist’s question to sink in. Carlos pulled his hand away from Cecil’s hair, a bit reluctantly, and Cecil’s scalp protested the lack of contact.

Carlos swallowed as he put the car in park behind Carmen’s little blue Hyundai Sonata. He looked at his boyfriend earnestly.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He said quickly. “I know your family is…if you don’t want me to know, I’m not going to force you to tell me.”

“No, it’s alright.” Cecil said, swallowing. “It’s just…no one has ever really asked me that before. I went so many years not even remembering his existence, and then…I don’t know; everything about him came back so suddenly. I think watching you interact with Andre and Carmen made me think a lot about what it would like if he were still here, and when I remembered his name…I guess I just wanted to keep something about him for myself.”

Carlos nodded. “I understand.” He said. “I don’t want you to tell me if you aren’t ready.”

Cecil nodded, slowly, and smiled. “I know. Thank you.” He squeezed Carlos’s hand. “Someday.” He promised.

Carlos smiled in return, and kissed Cecil’s knuckles. “Someday.”

Without another word, Cecil leant forward and captured Carlos’s lips with his own, letting the kiss linger for a moment before Carlos pulled away.

“Come on,” Carlos said with a smile. “Let’s get inside.”

Cecil nodded. “Lets.”

He climbed out of the car, and Carlos followed suit, grabbing the duffle bag from the backseat as he did so, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Careful you don’t fall.” He warned as they made their way towards the front porch. “There might be some ice.”

Cecil rolled his eyes, but grinned at his boyfriend anyway. “I’ll have you know I earned my ice skating badge while I was in the Boy Scouts in my youth, thank you.” He said.

“ _How_ do you acquire an ice skating badge _in a desert?!_ ” Carlos demanded as he opened the front door, holding it open for Cecil to walk through.

“Some questions are best left unanswered, my dear Carlos.” Cecil grinned slyly.

At that moment, a bright pink blur rushed into the foyer and threw itself at Cecil’s legs, very nearly taking him to the ground in surprise.

“Tío Ceesaw!” Gracie cried as she buried her face in Cecil’s legs. “Tío Ceesaw, you’re back!”

Cecil chuckled in amusement as he patted Gracie’s dark curls lovingly.

“Of course!” He said as he squatted down to her level, albeit stiffly. “Did you think I was going to leave and go on vacation without you?”

“I didn’t know!” Gracie said as she threw herself at Cecil again, hugging him tightly around the neck. “Abuela said you’d been in a car accident, and that you were really, really hurt, and I was scared you were going to miss Christmas!”

“Never.” Cecil promised as he hugged the little girl back.

Gracie grinned as she pulled back, but her smile fell as she laid eyes on the bruises that adorned Cecil’s face, and the thick black stitches.

“What happened?!” She demanded as she very lightly reached out and ran her finger across the line above Cecil’s eyebrow. Cecil tried not to wince, if only to keep from scaring the child.

“The window broke and cut him,” Carlos explained gently. “So the doctors put stitches in the cut so it will heal faster.”

“Did it hurt?” Gracie asked Cecil.

“Yes,” Cecil answered.

Gracie quickly pressed a kiss to Cecil’s eyebrow.

“There!” She said brightly. “Mommy always kisses me when I’m hurt. She says that helps them. Feel better?”

Cecil laughed, affection for the little girl swelling in his heart. “Much. Thank you.”

Gracie released him, and Carlos helped his boyfriend stand back to his feet, careful to mind the bruises and general soreness of Cecil’s body. Gracie grabbed Cecil’s hand and started to drag him towards the living room.

“Careful, Gracie,” Carlos warned as he followed them closely. “Tío Cecil’s still really sore, okay?”

“Duh!” Gracie said as she let go of Cecil’s hand to plop herself back in front of the array of construction paper, coloring books, and crayons laid out in front of the fireplace. “I’m not going to hurt him!” She shuffled through some of the papers in front of her before she produced what she was looking for. She held it up to Cecil.

“I drew you!” She said, smiling proudly as Cecil took the pastel pink paper from her. “I wanted to give it to Tío Carlos to give to you at the hospital, but he was asleep when he came home last night, so Mommy said to give it to you today!” She stuck her tongue out at Carlos, scolding him. Carlos rolled his eyes, but grinned, and stuck his tongue back out at her.

Cecil looked at the paper. Indeed, Gracie had drawn something akin to his likeness on the paper, as best as a child her age could. He was wearing red pants and a yellow shirt, and he was holding a snowflake drawn with blue crayon. She had used a white and yellow crayon to draw his hair, unable to properly capture its true hue with the limited array of colors Crayola provided her with, but she had made sure to use purple to color his eyes, though she had forgotten his glasses.

All three of them.

“Gracie!” He laughed. “Why do I have another eye on my forehead?!”

Gracie shrugged. “I thought it looked cool!” She said.

Cecil inspected the drawing further, and pointed to the thick, indigo colored tendrils coming out of his back. “And what are these?”

“Tentacles!” Gracie explained. “Like your tattoos!”

“Oooooooh,” Cecil drawled. “I see. So can I use them, then? Like extra arms?”

“Yeah!” Gracie said. “You said your tattoos move sometimes, so maybe you could use the tentacles to open really hard jars?”

Cecil chuckled, and ruffled Gracie’s curls. “Thank you, Gracie.” He said. “I’ll keep it always.”

Gracie beamed, and she turned her attention back to the art supplies on the floor, her uncles momentarily forgotten.

As they made their way down the hall towards Carlos’s room, the door next to the bathroom opened, and Ashley poked her head into the hallway. She smiled widely as she saw Cecil.

“Cecil!” She said, stepping out into the hall to envelope him in a hug, which was somewhat difficult with her pregnant belly between them. “Welcome home!”

“Thank you.” Cecil said as he hugged her back. “It’s good to be back.”

“Are you feeling any better?” Ashley asked as she stepped back. “José said you were doing better when he got home last night.”

Cecil nodded. “Still a bit sore, and a little tired, but I’ve been in worse condition.” He said.

Ashley nodded in understand. “I’m just glad you made it out of that horrible accident!” She said. “We were all worried about you.”

Cecil blushed, and he felt his ears begin to burn.

“I appreciate the thoughts.” He said.

“Where’s Andre and the boys?” Carlos asked beside him, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s a bit too quiet without them here.”

“They ran to the grocery store to pick up some things for Maria.” Ashley explained. “They should be back soon. I’m changing the sheets on Abuela’s bed and making sure she has enough blankets.”

Carlos nodded. “Good idea.” He said. “She never did care for the cold much.”

“Which is probably why she moved to Florida.” Ashley agreed. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure everything was ready for her when she gets here.”

“She’ll appreciate the sentiment.” Carlos assured her.

Ashley smiled, and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Gracie calling her from the living room. Ashley gave her brother-in-law and Cecil one last smile before she briskly swept past them into the living room.

Carlos took Cecil’s hand and squeezed it gently. Cecil smiled at him tiredly.

“You okay?” Carlos whispered as they walked into his room. Cecil nodded, rubbing his forehead.

“Just tired, dearest Carlos.” Cecil promised.

“Why don’t you lay down for a little while?” Carlos suggested, laying his duffle bag on the desk chair. “I can make us some lunch, if you want.”

“That…sounds nice.” Cecil agreed, nodding. “A nap may do me some good.”

“Okay.” Carlos said. “Go and lay down. I’ll make lunch.”

He pressed a kiss to Cecil’s forehead, and Cecil felt the familiar warmth spread from the contact to the other reaches of his body within seconds. Suddenly the headache he had felt beginning to niggle at his cerebral cortex felt much easier to bear.

Sighing contentedly, Cecil nestled himself onto the bed, pulling his phone from his hoodie pocket and plugging it into the wall charger, setting the phone down on the windowsill. He pulled the familiar blankets around his body and nestled in, closing his eyes. He wasn’t particularly sleepy, per se, but his body still felt achy and worn out, just as Dr. Garland had warned it might.

After a few minutes, the smell of toast filled the air, and he faintly heard Gracie’s high pitched trilling from the kitchen, no doubt asking her uncle what he was cooking, and if he’d be willing to cook her some, too.

After a few minutes, he sighed and pushed himself back up. He didn’t really want to sleep, only to be woken up again in a few minutes when Carlos was done making lunch.

His phone buzzed from the windowsill, and he reached out to see who it was. It was a reminder, one had had set up before leaving Night Vale reminding him to record the day’s events for Dana on his hand held voice recorder.

_Hm. Well, it will at least pass the time!_

He threw the covers off of himself and crossed the room to Carlos’s duffle bag. After riffling through it for a few moments, he finally found the recorder. Holding the slim object in his hand, he pressed the on/off button, expecting the little green light to appear in the corner, indicating it was on, but nothing happened. Frowning, Cecil tried again.

Still nothing.

 _Hm. Maybe the batteries are dead?_ He thought. He knelt next to the foot of the bed and unzipped the front pocket of his suitcase, where he found his spare batteries. He quickly opened the bottom of the recorder, and slipped the newest batteries inside after disposing of the old in the tiny trashcan next to the desk. He hit the on/off button again, and this time, the little green light burst to life.

Grinning, Cecil quickly rewound the recorder a bit.

“Now, where did I last leave off…?”

After a few seconds, Cecil stopped, and hit ‘play.’ He was almost certain he had left off talking about the dream he had had following the gingerbread fiasco, involving sentient cookies (he also reminded himself that he was not, under any circumstances, to purchase any trefoils from the Girl Scouts this year. Not unless he wanted to go without taste buds for six weeks like he did in the dream).

_“…he’s away from all this. At least there he’s safe.”_

Cecil blinked in surprise. The voice coming from the recorder was most definitely _not_ his voice, but was very distinctly Carlos’s tenor. Carlos’s voice was riddled with pain, and gurgles of air, as though he were unable to breathe steadily, and his voice cracked, like he was crying. The sound was muffled, as if the recorder wasn’t directly being held to Carlos’s mouth, but was instead talking to someone else, not knowing the recorder was even on.

Carlos’s voice went on, “ _Take me instead. P-Please, God, don’t take Cecil. I c-can’t…I don’t know…God, _please…”__ The sound of a strangled, barely restrained sob followed, and Cecil felt his heart constrict in his chest tightly, as though it were being rung out like a rag.

 _“I love him, God. And I don’t care if it’s a sin, and I don’t care if it damns my soul, or anything else people say. I love him. I’ve never had…I never expected Cecil. I never expected to find someone who loves me that much for no reason at all. I never…I’ve never loved anyone like I love Cecil. He makes me want to be better; he makes me want to live louder, fight harder, and I don’t know if I can live without him.”_ Carlos’s voice continued. Cecil felt tears begin to course down his cheek _s_ as he pressed a hand to his mouth. A part of him didn’t want to continue, but the insatiably curious reporter side of him urged him to.

 _“_ _I get it. I’ve been stupid. I’ve lost sight of what’s important. I’ve ignored You, turned by back on You in the name of science and theory, and God, I’m_ _sorry._ _But please, if you let him live, I’ll never doubt again; I’ll give You every ounce of blood I have, every last second of my life I have left, just please,_ _don’t. Take. Cecil.”_

The rest of the recording consisted of nothing more than the sounds of Carlos’s agonized sobbing, until finally Cecil, unable to hear anymore, turned off the recorder.

 “Oh, Carlos…” He whispered quietly as he lowered his hand to clutch at his chest above his heart, tears fogging his glasses. “I am so sorry.”

“I didn’t know it was on.” A quiet, familiar voice said behind, and Cecil jumped, spinning around. Carlos stood in the doorway, balancing two plates with small bowls of thick red soup and what appeared to be grilled cheese on the inside of his left forearm. He was smiling, sadly, as he sat the plates down gently on the bedside table, along with the two glasses of water he held in his right hand. “It was in my jeans pocket. I guess I must have bumped the button or something.”

Within seconds Cecil was at his boyfriend, his arms around Carlos’s torso, and hugged him tightly. Cecil buried his face in the slightly taller man’s shoulder, clutching at his shirt, balling the fabric into his hands. After a moment of surprise, Cecil felt Carlos’s arms circle around his shoulders, holding him close, as though he, too, were afraid to let go.

Neither man said a word as they stood there for a few moments more, clinging to one another as though they were the final remaining tethers to the world around them. Cecil could barely contain the raging emotions that assaulted him all at once: guilt, affection, adoration, shame, relief, and love surged in rapid recession through his veins, and Cecil held on to his Carlos, his scientist, as he rode each wave, if only to make sure that he were still there.

“I love you.” He heard Carlos say into his temple as he pressed a kiss to the hair there. “God, Cecil, I love you so much.”

Cecil pulled back, and he grasped Carlos’s collar in his hands, and pulled the dark skinned man towards him. Their glasses clinked as he pressed his lips to Carlos’s firmly, kissing him intensely, passionately, allowing every ounce of love he had for the scientist to flow from his heart into it. Carlos’s grip around Cecil’s body tightened as he pressed the radio host closer to him, deepening the kiss further. Cecil’s hand stole into Carlos’s dark curls, the splints from his broken fingers momentarily forgotten as he carded them through the soft strands.

Finally, they pulled apart, both gasping slightly for air as Carlos leant his forehead against Cecil’s.

“I love you, too.” Cecil said finally, a small smile playing across his face as he blinked against the tears that still pricked his eyes. “I’m so sorry I put you through that.”

Carlos shook his head, and kissed the tip of Cecil’s nose.

“I told you, it doesn’t matter now.” He said. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

“Can you ever forgive me?” Cecil whispered, so quietly he was worried he hadn’t said it at all. Carlos’s brow furrowed.

“Forgive you for what?”

“Making…making you cry like that? For making you feel that way because of my own foolishness?”

“Oh.” Carlos blinked in surprise. He smiled softly as he placed a hand on Cecil’s hip. “No, I’m afraid this is one thing I can’t forgive you for.”

Cecil felt his heart seize once more, and he opened his mouth to respond that he understood, when Carlos shook his head.

“I can’t forgive you for making me feel that way, for scaring me that badly,” he said slowly. “Because there’s nothing to forgive, Cec. I only felt that way because I love you so much. I was scared I was going to lose you.”

Cecil opened his mouth once more to protest, but Carlos cut him off with a kiss. After a few seconds, Cecil felt himself melting into it, the anxiety hanging over him dissipating. He closed his eyes, relishing in the warm press of Carlos’s lips against his, and the grounding haziness it settled on his guilt-ridden heart.

Perhaps it wasn’t Carlos’s forgiveness he should seek, but his own.

Carlos finally pulled away, and Cecil opened his eyes.

“I think our lunch is getting cold.” Carlos said with a slight grin as he gestured with his head at the plates on the table.

“Oh!” Cecil said, stepping away from his boyfriend. “It smells wonderful! What is it?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese.” Carlos answered. “Mamá used to make it for me when I stayed home sick from school.”

Cecil settled himself onto the bed, sitting cross-legged with his back to the wall. Carlos handed him one of the plates, and Cecil grinned when he saw that he had remembered that Cecil liked paprika in his soup.

Carlos climbed onto the bed and sat parallel to Cecil, cross-legged as well. They ate in relative silence, save for the odd buzz of Cecil’s phone, denoting he had another text message or email.

Carlos chuckled as Cecil yawned when he finally finished the last of his grilled cheese, the crusts aside.

“Still tired?” He asked.

Cecil nodded. “A little.” He admitted. “But I don’t want to be sleeping when your abuela gets here. That would be terribly uncouth of me.”

Carlos shook his head. “Cecil, you have a concussion. That buys you extra nap minutes.” He assured him.

“I want to make a good first impression, Carlos.” Cecil insisted.

Carlos sighed.

“You are so lucky Carmen isn’t here right now. She’d be strapping you to the bed.” He mumbled under his breath, before he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “How about this? I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, and then I’ll make sure I wake you up before they get here after about forty five minutes. Sound good?”

After a moment’s contemplation, Cecil nodded, slowly.

“Alright.” He consented, yawning as he did so. “But only because I am far too tired to argue with you.”

Carlos grinned, and very gently removed Cecil’s glasses from his face, before he removed his own and placed them both, cradled together, on the bedside table, before he stretched out beside Cecil, who happily curled himself into Carlos’s side, sighing contently as he tucked his hands into the hoodie’s front pocket, his head on Carlos’s shoulder.

“Love you.” He whispered sleepily as he allowed himself to sink into Carlos’s warmth, breathing in his familiar scent, his heart beating steadily beneath his ear. Carlos curled his arm around Cecil’s shoulders, cuddling him close.

The last thing Cecil heard as he drifted off was Carlos’s soft “ _t_ _e amo, mi vida._ ”

 

...oOo...

 

It didn’t take long for Carlos’s shoulder to begin to tingle with pins and needles after Cecil finally succumbed to sleep, and Carlos had a hard time extracting it from beneath the lightly snoring radio host without disturbing him in the process. After a bit of gentle, methodical wiggling, Carlos was finally able to gain possession of his arm once more.

Cecil’s face twisted in protest at the loss of contact, his nose wrinkling adorably as he frowned and groaned discontentedly. He flipped himself over onto his other side, turning his back to Carlos, and scrunched further into a ball. Carlos chuckled slightly as he grabbed the quilt from the foot of the bed and carefully draped it over his boyfriend.

Still flexing his numb fingers, Carlos grabbed his glasses from the table and slipped them onto his nose before he tiptoed to the door, and slipped out into the hallway.

He walked into the living room, still wiggling his fingers. The pins and needles were beginning to fade, and he rolled his shoulder to rid it of the persistent ache there.

“Tío Carlos!” Gracie launched herself at her uncle as soon as she laid eyes on him. “Where’s Tío Cecil? He forgot his picture!” She brandished the picture she had drawn of Cecil in her hand, waving it in the air. Carlos gently pried the little girl away from him.

“Tío Cecil is taking a nap.” He explained. “He’s still really tired from his car accident, so try not to wake him up, okay? You can give him his picture when he wakes up again.”

Gracie nodded enthusiastically. “Okay!” She said. “I’m gonna draw another one of you to go with it!”

Carlos laughed and ruffled his niece’s curls. “I’m sure he’d like that, _pequeño_.” He said.

There was the sound of the door opening, and Carlos looked towards the front door to see Andre coming inside, bags of groceries in his hands. The twins weren’t far behind their father, each carrying a bag each.

“ _Hola, hermano._ ” Andre greeted with a grin as he closed the door behind him with his heel.

“ _Hola_.” Carlos answered back. “Need some help?”

“No, we’ve got it all.” Andre answered as he kicked off his shoes. “Where’s Cecil?”

“Sleeping.” He said. “He’s still kind of tired because of the concussion. I told him I’d wake him up before Dad, Carmen and Abuela get here.”

Andre nodded. “Shouldn’t be too long now.” He said. “I talked to Dad when I was at the grocery store. He said they’d stopped for lunch outside of the city. Abuela wanted a real New York pizza.”

Carlos laughed. “Sounds like Abuela alright!” He agreed. “She always did like her pizza!”

Andre chuckled as he sat the bags on the counter, next to the ones the twins had been carrying.

“Have you seen Ashley?” Andre said as he began unpacking the bags, handing some of the contents to his brother. “I have the pineapple rings and beef jerky she wanted.”

Carlos gagged. “Is that the weirdest craving she’s had so far?” He asked hesitantly, almost afraid to hear the answer. Andre shook his head.

“Luckily you missed the time she wanted peanut butter and hummus on a hamburger.” He said. “That child has some weird tastes.”

Carlos opened the cupboard and placed the cans of tomato sauce inside, along with the canned sweet corn. “Remember when Carmen was pregnant with Gracie? She ate more Pringles than anyone should consume in their lifetime in one sitting!”

“Pringles?!” Gracie poked her head into the kitchen, almost materializing from thin air. “Where?!”

Andre threw his head back and laughed. “Sorry, Gracie Girl, no Pringles for you!” He said. “Mom’s orders.”

Gracie’s face fell. “Aw, why not?!” She demanded.

“I’m not about to go against your mom, kiddo.” Andre said, shaking his head. “She scares me.”

Gracie scowled as she let out a “humph!” and turned away from her uncles to stalk back into the living room, where she went back to her drawing.

“Note to self,” Andre muttered. “Use of the P-Word is strictly off limits.”

Carlos smirked as he carefully placed the carton of iced coffee in the refrigerator. As he closed the door, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw that he had a text from Carmen.

 

_Carmen: Would you do me a huuuuuuuuuuuge favor and go to my house and take Max for a walk down the street? He hasn’t been out since I left this morning! He’ll love you forever!_

 

Carlos sighed, shaking his head.

 

_Carlos: Fine. But only because you’re the only sister I have._

 

He pocketed the phone, and turned to his brother. “Hey, is it okay if I use your car again?” He asked. “Carmen needs me to go and let Max out.”

Andre shrugged. “You still have the keys, don’t you?”

“ _Gracias._ ” Carlos said as he turned and grabbed his coat from the hook by the door, shoving his feet into his boots. “I’ll be back soon, probably within twenty minutes or so, depending on whether or not Max will be content to run around in the yard or if he actually needs me to walk him down the street. If Cecil wakes up before I get back, just tell him to text me.”

“ _No hay problema_.” Andre assured his brother. “I’ll make sure the heathens don’t wake him up, either.”

“Thanks.” Carlos said as he dug his hat from the coat pocket, as well as the keys to the car. He gave his brother one final nod before he trudged out the door and into the snow outside. He sent a quick “I love you” text to Cecil before he started the car, put it in reverse, and began to make his way across town.

As he went, he couldn’t help but wonder: would he be the one walking Max, or would Max be the one walking him?

 

...oOo...

 

It was the sound of a door opening and closing that brought Cecil startling back to consciousness. He squinted open his eyes, instantly regretting this decision when the sunlight streaming in through the window beside him hit his sore eyelids, and he groaned in protest as he screwed the shut in an effort to block out the vile brightness, but to no avail. Grunting in frustration, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, yawning and stretching, ignoring the dull ache of his bruises as he pulled at them. His back popped several times, and he quickly ridded himself of the cricks in his neck in the hopes that it would help alleviate the persistent, stabbing pain that reverberated through his head. The cracking did help some, but the headache raged on as he gently scratched at the stitches on his temple.

Grabbing his glasses from the windowsill, he dared a glance at the clock on Carlos’s side of the bed. The numbers announced that he had been sleeping, by his calculation, for nearly an hour, and Cecil grunted grumpily at Carlos’s broken promise to wake him up within forty five minutes.

Still, Cecil had slept well, and he felt much more rested, despite the migraine that had engraved itself into his skull. He kicked the guilt that had been placed on top of him back to the foot of the bed and sat his feet on the floor.

He knew that he should probably just take one of the pain meds Dr. Garland had sent home with him, but Cecil didn’t like the tingey, slight haze they brought to his brain, and he didn’t believe that a simple migraine constituted the need to take a prescription painkiller.

 _Maybe there’s some Excedrin in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom_ , he thought as he ran a hand through his blond hair, yawning as he did so. He sleepily made his way towards the door, He stepped out into the hallway, and he registered the voices drifting down the hall from the kitchen vaguely as he hobbled towards the bathroom.

He passed the room where he and Carlos had last seen Ashley as he did so, and movement in his periphery caught his attention. He stopped and turned, poking his head into the room.

A plump, petite woman stood in front of the closet in the corner of the room, her back to the door. Her hair was long and greying, and done up in a simple braid. She wore a simple skirt and blouse, and she was pulling down a pillowcase from shelf in the closet.

“Oh, Maria!” He said, grinning widely as he stepped fully into the room. “Do you have anything I can take for a headache? Maybe some ibuprofen or…”

He trailed off, his grin slipping from his face into an expression of complete surprise as the woman turned to face him.

It was not Maria. This woman had a much more round face, with piercing blue eyes behind large, thick glasses that reminded Cecil greatly of the 90’s. She, too, wore an expression of surprise and confusion; an aura of suspicion arose from her as she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Cecil realized with a start that this woman looked very much like an older version of Carmen.

He closed his mouth to keep it from gaping, and he swallowed thickly as the woman blinked at him. He was suddenly incredibly aware of his appearance, with the bruises that marred his face and the neatly lined stitches above his eyebrow, and he was certain his hair was likely atrociously tufty, as it was prone to being when he first woke up, and he still wore the sweatpants and hoodie Carlos had lent him, though they were slightly more wrinkled now that he had napped in them.

Cecil was not used to being at a loss for words; he spoke for a living, so speechlessness was not an asset to which he greatly relied upon in his field of expertise.

And, yet, here he stood, completely frozen in the spot, unable to muster up more than an awkward “oh” as he and the woman before him continued to gaze at each other, neither one saying a word as they stared down the other from across the room.

No, this was not Maria. This was not even, despite the close resemblance, an older incarnation of Carmen (did fluxes in time exist outside of Night Vale? He was fairly certain they did not).

This was Abuela, Carlos’s grandmother.  

Cecil’s headache was, momentarily, forgotten.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone going to the Detroit show on the 24th?! If you are, hit me up!!! 
> 
> Also, I know I keep saying we'll meet Abuela soon, but I PROMISE, we'll actually meet her meet her in the next chapter. :) I ended this chappie here because honestly, it was beginning to drag on longer than it should have, and I want the next chapter to be able to stand alone. :) 
> 
> \-----
> 
> Translations:  
> -de nada: "you're welcome"  
> -te amo, mi vida: "I love you, my life"  
> -no hay problema: "no problem"  
> -pequeño: "little one"


	14. Abuela, Did You Know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abuela is finally introduced, and nothing goes exactly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March was a weird month for me. The weather sucked, and I was absolutely SWAMPED with homework, projects, papers, and extracurricular activities, and somehow, I just could not manage to pound out this chapter! I apologize for making you all wait so long for an update, and thank you all so much for your continued support! I made this chapter super long as a way to apologize for the lack of an update! But! Finally, we get to meet the ever elusive Abuela! I had an interesting time pining down her characterization, because originally, I tried to model her after my own grandmother, but the more and more I wrote her dialog and actions, the more she evolved into her own person with a unique personality. She's interesting, and I hope everyone is as excited to meet her as I am to debut her to you!
> 
> So! Anyway! In March, I DID GET TO SEE NIGHT VALE LIVE IN DETROIT, AND IT WAS THE NEATEST THING EVER. My friend Tristan and I cosplayed as Cecil (me) and Carlos (Tristan; he was the ONLY Carlos there, so needless to say he was pretty popular!), and had a BLAST! We got to meet the cast afterwards, and seriously, they are all the sweetest people EVER. Meg is so pretty, Jeffrey Cranor is nothing but a ball of smiles, Dylan Marron is a HUGE sweetheart, and Cecil is such a fluffy ball of sunshine (he was also super excited to see my in cosplay, so it was sort of a starstriking moment to meet him and have him compliment it, considering it was my first cosplay...), and Joseph Fink had a great laugh because all of us wore nametags that said, "Hi, my name is Joseph Fink." It was great! 
> 
> I also had the wonderful privilege to meet andthewordswillcomecrashing (tumblr) while there, who was very very kind and said she really enjoys this fanfiction! Made my whole night!!!!! I am still reeling from it, so thank you!!! I wish I could have found you after the show and given you a hug, because dangit, you made my whole day!! I still grin thinking about it!
> 
> Also...I HAVE FANART NOW. OMG. The absolutely wonderful Jayie drew the scene from chapter ten where Carlos is carrying Cecil from the wreckage of the car through the snowstorm, and it. Is. BEAUTIFUL. I cannot thank her enough for it!!! So this chapter is dedicated to her, in thanks. :) Here's the spectacular piece: http://jayie-the-hufflepuff.tumblr.com/post/81361725724/carlos-yanked-open-the-door-so-hard-he-felt-his (I will never ne able to express how flattered I am to have fanart drawn for this story! Thank you thank you thank you!!!)
> 
> So, anyway! I'm sorry for taking so long, but I hope this chapter makes up for it!!! It's a bit...dry in places, but, again, I wrote this periodically throughout March, which was, decidedly, a weird month. So please forgive me. 
> 
> Also, while this story was never completely canon compliant to begin with (i.e. the absence of Strex, original Station Management, and, of course, Dana not being in the dog park), please ignore anything that may or may not interfere with the newest episode, "Cookies," no matter how freaking adorable that episode was. Specifically anything to do with Carlos and cats, and Cecil's family.

 

 

Carlos grunted in frustration as he felt a thick furry tail thump against the back of his head for what felt like the millionth time in the short fifteen minute drive it took to get from Carmen’s house to José and Maria’s, and he growled under his breath as he felt another glob of drool slither down his coat from where it had dripped onto his shoulder.

“Max,” he said as evenly as he could, given his rising blood pressure. “If I have to tell you to _sit_ one more time, I swear to _Einstein_ I will buckle you in like a toddler!”

The Newfoundland merely licked the side of his face, lathering his cheek in slobber, before he nonchalantly turned himself around in the backseat once more.

 _This is why I’m a cat person._ Carlos thought to himself. _Or, better yet, a pet rock person._

It had taken Carlos a tad bit longer than he had anticipated to get to Carmen’s house and let out Max, if only because the dog had been so excited to see him he had completely upended one of Carmen’s rugs, thus resulted in a very nearly shattered potted ficus, had Carlos not reached out just in time and caught it before it could hit the floor.

The dog had then proceeded to drag Carlos down the street as soon as the scientist had clipped on his leash and opened the door. It was moments like that that made Carlos glad he jogged in the mornings, and was in relatively good shape because of it.

Still, it had taken much longer than he would have liked to wrangle the dog back to his own yard, and from there, he had flat out refused to return to the house. Despite the training Carlos knew Carmen had put the dog through, he was still as stubborn as a bull (and about the same size to boot), so in the end, Carlos had given up and loaded Max into the backseat of Andre’s minivan, where he continuously roved in circles, alternating between looking out the passenger windows, the back window, and over Carlos’s shoulder.

As he turned onto the street and drove towards his parents’ driveway, Carlos’s phone trilled from inside his front coat pocket, and he glanced at the screen as he pulled it out.

 

_Carmen: We’re home! :)_ _  
_

“Crap!” Carlos muttered. He had hoped to be home in time to wake Cecil as he had promised, but it was too late now. As deep a sleeper as Cecil was, Carlos was sure he was still sleeping, but he wasn’t looking forward to the scowl he knew would be sent his way when he told Cecil he hadn’t woken him up in time, and Carlos couldn’t say that he blamed him, if he were being honest. He knew Cecil wanted to make a good first impression with Abuela, especially given everything that had gone down the past few days, and Carlos couldn’t deny the flutter of anxiety that had been gnawing away at the pit of his gut.

He turned into the driveway, and slowly made his way up the hill towards his parents’ house. Sure enough, his father’s green Buick was sitting in the driveway beside Carmen’s Hyundai Sonata. Carlos carefully parked behind his father, and killed the engine, climbing out of the car. He opened the backseat door, and Max clamored out, giddily trotting up the steps to the front door.

Carlos followed the dog, and forced his way around him to grasp at the door handle. He took a deep breath before he twisted the handle.

 _She’s going to love you, no matter what._ He reminded himself firmly. _She’s going to love Cecil. How can she not?_

Somehow, it helped him believe it.

“ _Hola!”_ He called as he stepped inside, and Max very nearly knocked him to the floor as he rushed past him into the kitchen. “ _Estoy en casa!_ ”

“In here!” Came Andre’s voice. “Living room!”

Carlos peeled his coat from his shoulders, and hung it on its designated hook, next to the burgundy parka he knew to belong to Abuela before he kicked off his boots, setting them next to Cecil’s by the door.

Carlos walked into the living room to find his brother and sister-in-law sitting on the couch with the twins between them, Cody’s hand on his mother’s belly. Carmen was on her stomach on the floor next to Gracie, coloring a picture of what appeared to be a scene from _Frozen_ in a coloring book. José walked in from the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands as Carlos entered. Max had curled up on the rug in front of the now lit fireplace, completely sprawled out on his back like a dead armadillo.

“I swear, Carmen, you trained that dog to obey everyone but me.” Carlos said, eyeing his sister with a cocked eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, _mi hermano._ ” Carmen said innocently. “Not a single clue.”

Carlos crossed his arms. “Right. I’ll believe that when Betelgeuse goes supernova.”

“Hm.” Carmen agreed. “Well, you may want to start believing me then. Chances are it’s already gone supernova. I thought you were supposed to be a scientist?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “So where’s Abuela?” He asked.

“She went into her room to sit down for a little while.” José answered as he sipped at his coffee, his mustache twitching slightly. “We haven’t seen or heard Cecil get up, so I assume he’s still sleeping.”

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s probably best, though I promised I’d wake him up before you got home.” He said.

Carmen made a face. “Well, you’re in for it, then.” She said before she went back to coloring her picture, wrestling mildly with Gracie for possession of the orange crayon. “I’m not an expert, but I’d say your boyfriend it’s one I’d want to tick off.”

“You have no idea.” Carlos laughed.  He walked towards the hallway. “I should probably go wake him up, so he’s at least awake when Abuela gets back up.”

“I’ll miss you, Tío Carlos.” Donovan said. “If Tío Cecil kills you, can I have your Pokémon?”

Ashley threw her head back and laughed, and Carlos couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle Donovan’s hair as he passed him.

“Only if you can get my Magikarp to evolve into a Gyarados.” He said. “Good luck with that.”

Donovan’s eyes widened, and Carlos chuckled as he passed him and walked down the hall to his old room. The door was slightly ajar, and he slipped in quietly.

“Cecil, time to wake up, _querido._ ” He said softly as he walked towards the bed. “I had to let Max out, so Abuela’s alre— ”

He stopped short when he realized that the bed was vacant.

Carlos’s first response was blind panic. After what had happened the last time he had found his boyfriend missing, he doubted anyone would blame him for such a reaction. His eyes roamed to the windowsill, where Cecil’s phone still sat charging, as was his pocket voice recorder, but the radio host’s glasses were gone.

“Cecil?” He called. “Cecil, are you in here?”

Part of him half expected Cecil to suddenly jump from the closet in the corner, or army crawl from beneath the bed, but the rational side of Carlos knew that with his injuries, the possibilities of this were slim to none, but that did not stop him from checking the spaces nonetheless.

Cecil was nowhere to be found.

 _He’s probably just in the bathroom._ Carlos reasoned with his racing mind. _Calm down. He’s fine._

Carlos quickly retreated back into the hallway, and looked at the bathroom. The door was open, the room inside dark. Frowning, he glanced back in his room before he walked towards it.

“Has anyone seen Cecil?” He called into the living room, poking his head in.

“I thought you said he was sleeping?” Andre asked, quirking an eyebrow. “We haven’t seen or heard him get up.”

“Yeah, but he’s not there.” Carlos said.

“Did you check under the bed?” Gracie asked. “That’s where I hide from Mommy when she tries to give me medicine!”

“Nope, checked there.” Carlos said. “The closet too. I don’t think he’d be playing a game of hide n’ seek with himself, Gracie Girl.”

“So you’re telling me you _lost_ your boyfriend?!” Carmen asked, her eyes widening. “The boyfriend that is currently sporting a concussion, broken fingers, and several stitches that are just asking to be ripped out?!”

Her tone was beginning to turn slightly menacing, and Carlos held up his hands.

“I haven’t even been here!” He countered. “If you recall, I was doing _you_ a favor by letting out the bear you call a dog!”

“How do you lose a thirty two year old grown man?!” Carmen said as she stood to her feet, a mauve crayon sticking to her pants leg. “Then again, you _did_ lose me when I was ten at the mall…”

“I didn’t lose him!” Carlos insisted. “And that was _one time_! Am I ever going to live it down?”

Both Carmen and Andre raised an eyebrow, and Carlos shook his head.

“You know what, never mind. The answer to that is absolutely no, I will not.” He sighed, and rubbed his temples. “Are you _sure_ you didn’t see Cecil come out?”

“Positive.” José confirmed.

Carlos frowned and shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense.” He turned on his heel and started back towards the bedroom, Carmen hot on his heels.

“Cecil, this isn’t funny!” He called as he went. “Where are you?!”

Just as he passed the closed door to Abuela’s room, there came the unmistakable call of his name from the other side.

“Carlos! In here!”

Carlos and Carmen froze stock still where they stood. Carlos dared a glance at his sister, who glanced up at him as well, her blue eyes blown.

“It couldn’t be…” She whispered softly.

“Could it?” Carlos finished for her.

“Cecil?” Carmen dared hesitantly. “Where are you?”

“In here!” Cecil’s voice repeated. “I’d come to the door, but I am a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

“Carlito, Carmen, come in here!” Came a heavily accented female voice, also from the other side of the door. “You must see our newest project!”

Again Carlos and Carmen exchanged a glance, panic written clearly on both of their faces, before Carlos seized the doorknob in his hand and hastily pushed it open.

Cecil was sitting crosslegged on the floor beside the bed, where Abuela sat at the edge, a pair of pink knitting needles in her hands, and a spread of yellow in her lap. Cecil, still clad in the (now slightly rumpled) sweatsuit Carlos had lent him, his hair sticking out in erratic tufts, had his hands spread about a foot apart, his palms facing each other, and loose yellow yarn was wound around them, unraveling slowly around as Abuela’s needles clacked together quietly.

“Carlos Emilio Ramirez, why didn’t you tell me that your boyfriend can knit?!” Abuela demanded of her grandson, a scowl planted firmly on her old and weathered face as she swept a hand to gesture at Cecil, who beamed. “I would have brought more yarn!”

“I-I…uh…” Carlos stammered, completely at a loss for words. He glanced at Carmen, who stared, wide-eyed, at the scene before them, her mouth agape. “I, uh, didn’t know he knitted…?” He finished weakly.

“Of course I knit!” Cecil said from his spot on the floor. “Who do you think made my NVCR scarf? And why do you think I have balls of yarn under my desk at work?”

“I thought they were for Khoskekh and the kittens…” Carlos tried.  

“I like to knit during the weather sometimes.” Cecil admitted, shrugging slightly, wincing as his shoulders dropped back. “I find it relaxing. Old Woman Josie and I used to go to the Knitting Bee with one another when they still held weekly meetings in the vacant lot behind the Ralph’s, but that disbanded several years ago after Chloe Franks accused Marianne Jacobson of stealing her left knitting needle, and, well…” He shook his head. “Let’s just say that it didn’t end well, shall we?”

Abuela chuckled.

“Carlito, _tu novio es tan encantador_!” She said. Her voice took on a teasing tone. “How is it that you managed to nab this one, hmm?”

“I’ve been asking the same question.” Carmen said, smirking as she crossed her arms and elbowed her brother in the ribs.

Carlos shook his head, still trying to completely comprehend the scene before him. Suddenly he was assaulted with the ambivalence as to how to respond. He was faced with equal and opposite reactions to both laugh, and cry.

Was he sure he wasn’t dreaming…?

“Well, Carlos _is_ a scientist.” Cecil said airily. “And I am _very_ into science these days.”

Abuela laughed, heartily, and all at once, Carlos felt the icy edges of doubt and apprehension that had been converging on his nerves melt, the frayed ends melding back together, and his heart felt warm and swollen in his chest as he finally grinned and shook his head again.

“ _No sé,_ ” he said finally. _“Pero lo amo._ ”

Abuela gave a small ‘hmm’ as she nodded her head, and smiled softly, before she sat down her knitting and very carefully stood to her feet.

At that moment, Andre and José came up behind Carlos and Carmen, and José pushed his way into the room.

“Mamá, you’re supposed to be sleeping!” He admonished his mother.

“Well, there has been a change of plans, _mi hijo_.” She said, gesturing to Cecil as he very carefully slid his hands from the loop of yarn, setting it on the bed next to Abuela’s needles. “As I was reaching for a pillowcase, this young man entered, thinking that I was Maria.” She raised an eyebrow. “Why did you not tell me that Carlito was bringing company home this year? I would have come sooner!”

Carlos saw José bristle slightly, before he swallowed, and scratched at his head in the way Carlos knew signified a reluctance to answer.

“We weren’t sure how you would react.” Carlos said finally, slowly, as he came to stand beside Cecil, taking his hand.

“About what?” Abuela asked. “That you are in love with another man?”

Carlos nodded.

“And did you really believe that I did not already know?” She said. “I have always known that you were different, and I have loved you all the same. You did not have to be afraid to share this with me.”

José stepped forward towards his mother, blinking in confusion.

“But, Mamá, we were always taught that for a man to be with another man is a sin, a deviance from God! You always told us as children that it was wrong! You said so yourself!”

Abuela turned to face her son, and she frowned, glaring intensely, placing her hands on her hips. Despite her small stature, Carlos knew very well his abuela was not a force to be reckoned with; like his sister, she was absolutely terrifying when angered.

“Yes, it is true that I used to believe that, but do you know?” Abuela said sternly. “God gave me a gay grandson, and told me to get over it.”

José’s face turned bright red, as he opened and closed his mouth several times, as though he were a fish gasping for water in open air.

Carlos couldn’t help it; he burst into laughter as the dam broke, every last ounce of trepidation about introducing his grandmother to Cecil flowing away from the outer reaches of his soul, and he squeezed Cecil’s hand tightly in his own. He had been so worried, especially with all that had happened, had been so anxious that this interaction would go anyway than it was now, and suddenly, he couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t dreaming.

Everything about him felt significantly lighter, as if a weight he had been carried was suddenly lifted, and he felt as though he were floating on air as he turned, swiftly, and unable to contain the pure and utter joy that bubbled from his toes to the roots of his hair, took Cecil’s face in his hands and kissed him, right then and there, in front of his siblings, his father, and his grandmother, hardly caring if anyone was watching or not.

There was great freedom, he found, in being able to kiss the man he loved without fear of judgment, or restraint, in front of those that he cared about most.

Carlos had never felt such a liberty before, and he grasped it firmly in his hands, in the very tips of the fingers that pressed against Cecil’s cheeks, and refused to let go, even for a moment.

After a few seconds, he pulled away and turned, still grinning, to face his family. His father, while still slightly bristled, said nothing as he ran a hand through his hair, one corner of his mouth turned upwards in a half-smile, whereas Carmen grinned like a Cheshire cat, Andre gave him an affirmative, approving nod, and Abuela smiled softly, lovingly, as she watched them both.

“How long have you known?” Carlos couldn’t help but ask his grandmother.

Abuela chuckled. “You think I don’t know when my own grandson is gay?” She said good-naturedly. “I’m old, but I am not blind!”

Carlos shook his head. “No, I mean when did you realize it?”

“I’d say you were thirteen or so when I first began to speculate.” Abuela answered honestly. “And I will admit, I, too, wrestled with the belief that it was an ungodly practice, and that it was something that should be wrung out of you as thoroughly as possible, until I realized that, perhaps, there is room for error in what we believe to be right, and what is actually true. I have not doubted for a moment that God has made you as He intended, and that He has always intended for you to be different.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Carlos asked. “That you knew?”

Abuela shook her head. “Because I wanted you to feel comfortable coming to me yourself, because I knew that once you did, you had truly found yourself with someone that made you happy, that was truly special.”

She reached out her hands and took his in one, and Cecil’s in the other. She gently squeezed them, minding Cecil’s splints.

“All that I have ever wanted, for any of my children and grandchildren, was for them to be happy, and healthy, and content with who they are.” She said, her eyes intense as they bored into Carlos’s. “Does this man make you happy, Carlos?”

Carlos nodded. “He does.”

Abuela turned her attention to Cecil.

“And do you love my grandson?”

Cecil nodded vigorously. “More than life.”

Abuela nodded her head, and smiled. “Then everything that I have ever hoped for is true.” She said. “I have only ever wanted for you to be happy, Carlos, for you to love and be loved in return, and for you to be happy, be it with a woman, or a man. And I will thank God all the days of my life that you have found someone that makes you happy.”

Carlos swallowed the lump that was rapidly forming at the back of his throat.

“ _Gracias,_ Abuela.” He said as he let go of both hers and Cecil’s hands to wrap his arms around his tiny grandmother, bending slightly to accommodate for the difference in height.

Abuela smiled once more as she wrapped her arms around Carlos, hugging him back. After a few moments, they pulled apart, and Abuela reached out a hand to gently cup Carlos’s cheek.

“I will always love you.” She said. “As you are, as I always have.”

After a moment she pulled away, and gestured to Cecil, who stood, still beaming, beside Carlos.

“You hold onto him now, do you hear?” She said sternly. “I like his spunk!”

Carlos laughed. “I plan to.” He promised.

“Good.” Abuela nodded before she looked at the rest of the occupants of the small room. “Now, if you would not mind, I would like a rest, if you please. I’d like to be able to stay awake for midnight mass tonight.” She waved her hands in a _shooing_ gesture. “ _Todos ustedes, fuera!_ ”

José held up his hands. “ _Vamos, vamos. Dormir bien, Mamá.”_

Abuela gave them all a curt nod, her smile never wavering as she ushered them out the door.

“Oh, and Cecil!” She said before she closed the door.

“Yes?” Cecil asked, turning to face her.

Abuela smiled at him. “Welcome to the family.”

Cecil smiled, and took Carlos’s hand in his, threading their fingers together tightly. His heart pounded in his chest against his ribcage as he nodded back.

“ _Gracias._ ”

Carlos, his heart still hammering in his chest, and the feeling of weightlessness in his stomach, squeezed Cecil’s hand as the two of them emerged into the living room with his father and siblings. Ashley looked up from her book on the couch.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

Andre nodded. “We found Cecil.”

“Oh?” Ashley said. “Is that what was going on?”

“He and Abuela were knitting.” Carmen said as she sat herself back on the floor next to her daughter. “So I think it’s safe to say that they’ve been properly introduced.”

Ashley blinked, and looked at Carlos and Cecil.

“Did it go well?” She asked hesitantly, looking from her husband back to Cecil and Carlos.

“Believe it or not,” Carlos said. “Yes, it did.”

“What happened?” Gracie asked as she ceased coloring, looking up. “Abuelita likes Tío Ceesaw, right?!”

Carmen ruffled Gracie’s hair. “Loves him, Gracie Girl.” She assured her. “Just like we knew she would.”

“How can you _not_ like Tío Cecil?!” Cody demanded from his place in front of the fireplace, where he was rubbing Max’s exposed belly as the door snored loudly.

José rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he headed back into the kitchen, picking his coffee mug off of the table next to the couch as he did so. Cecil visibly perked up at the sight of it, and quickly followed José into the kitchen in pursuit of his own cup, Carlos had no doubt.

“It happens, kiddo.” Andre said as he seated himself back on the couch.

“So how did she…take the news?” Ashley asked Carlos. “About…?”

“She said she’s known.” Carlos said, shrugging as he sat down on the couch next to her and Andre. “And that she’s happy I’ve found someone that makes me happy.”

Ashley smiled, and reached out a hand to squeeze her brother-in-law’s arm. “Carlos, that’s wonderful.” She said. “I know you were worried. We all were.”

Carlos nodded, slowly, still not quite able to believe what had just transpired.

“I never expected it to go so well.” He said as he took off his glasses and wiped a smudge from the left lens with the hem of his sweatshirt. “Especially after…” He trailed off, unable to finish, but knowing that Ashley and Andre knew what he meant.

Cecil returned from the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He was still grinning ear to ear in a way Carlos hadn’t seen him grin since the snowball fight the day before – God, had it really only been a day since everything had turned around? – as he sat down next to Carlos.

“So you passed Abuela’s test.” Andre said, nodding at Cecil. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Cecil answered before he took a long sip of coffee. “I admit I was a bit worried at first, especially since I all but walked in on her getting ready to take a nap, and I only just awoke from mine, so I’m sure I don’t look anywhere near my best.” He brought a hand up to lightly scratch at the stitches at his temple. “Especially with these.”

“Did Abuela ask about what happened?” Ashley asked.

Cecil nodded. “I explained what happened.” He said. “She was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to hold the yarn with my fingers, but I assured her it would be fine.”

He scratched at the stitches again, and Carlos gently slapped his hand away.

“Don’t scratch them.” He scolded good-naturedly. “You’ll make them bleed.”

“But they itch!” Cecil pouted. He began to scratch at his hair. “So does my scalp. I think I may be slightly allergic to the shampoo they used to wash my hair at the hospital.”

“I can help you wash your hair in the kitchen sink, if you want.” Carlos offered. “I bought you some waterproof bandages at the pharmacy.”

Cecil smiled. “That would be _wonderful_ , Carlos.” He said. He itched at his scalp again. “And, ah, the sooner the better?”

Carlos smirked and kissed his forehead. “I’ll go get a towel and your shampoo.” He said as he stood to his feet.

“Tío Ceesaw!” Gracie tugged on the sleeve of Cecil’s hoodie, and Cecil turned his head to face the little girl. “You forgot your picture!” She held out the piece of paper that had her depiction of Cecil drawn on it. She had added a second figure to the picture, standing next to Cecil, and it appeared to be Carlos. A large pink heart was drawn above their heads, furthering this hypothesis. “I drew Tío Carlos on it, too!”

Cecil grinned at the little girl. “Thank you, Gracie.” He said, taking the picture from her. “I promise I won’t forget it this time.”

Gracie grinned as she bounded back to her place in front of her coloring books, next to her mother.

At that moment, the front door opened, and a chilled gust of wind blew into the living room. Maria quickly made her way inside, shutting the door behind her as she did so, and called out a greeting.

“Cecil!” She said as she walked into the living room after hanging up her coat. She held out her arms as she walked towards him, and he stood to greet her, bending down to allow her to hug him around the neck. “It’s so good to have you home again!” She pulled away and patted him on the cheek. “Ah, your poor face!” She said, frowning. “Does it still hurt?”

Cecil shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” He assured her. “I had a headache earlier, but it’s gone now.”

“ _Pobrecito_!” She said as she gave his cheek a final, gentle, motherly pat before she pulled away, and Cecil straightened himself. “You must still be exhausted!”

“I took a nap after Carlos and I had lunch.” Cecil said, running a hand through his itchy hair again. “So I’m alright for now, but I am still a bit more tired than usual, yes.”

“We were all so worried about you!” Maria said. “I’m so glad to have you home! It would have been a horrible shame for you to have to spend Christmas in the hospital!”

“Tío Cecil, tell Abuela about meeting Abuelita!” Donovan called from his place next to his brother beside Max.

Maria blinked and looked at Cecil for clarification.

“I met Abuela?” He said. “I thought she was you when I walked by her room, so I walked in…”

“And how did it go?”

“Wonderfully.” Cecil said, grinning.

“They hit it off pretty well.” Carmen supplemented from the floor. “They bonded over yarn.”

Again Maria blinked.

“I knit.” Cecil said.

Maria shook her head, smiling affectionately.

“I had hoped it would go well.” She said softly. “I had no doubt that she would love you just as much as the rest of us do, but I know that Carlos was worried.”

“Worried about what?” Carlos asked as he came back into the room, a towel and Cecil’s bag of bathroom toiletries in his hand.

“Me meeting Abuela.” Cecil informed him. “You were concerned that it would go less than pleasantly.”

Carlos shrugged, unable to find it within himself to care now that the event had gone so well. “I was concerned, yes, but it all worked out.” He held up the toiletries bag. “Ready?”

Cecil nodded, and the two men, closely followed by Maria, into the kitchen.

“Do you mind if we borrow the sink for a few minutes, Mamá?” Carlos asked as he sat the towel and bag on the counter. “I know you still have to cook, but Cecil’s having a mild allergic reaction to the shampoo they washed his hair with at the hospital, so we were going to wash it here.”

Maria waved her hand dismissively. “You’re fine, Carlito.” She said. “I will peel the potatoes while I wait.”

Carlos nodded, and grabbed one of the chairs from the dining table, and sat it so the back was facing the sink. He grabbed a hand towel from the drawer next to the toaster and folded it, placing it on the edge of the sink.

“Sit.” He said to Cecil, gesturing to chair. Cecil obliged, carefully removing his mended glasses, folding them, and placing them on the counter. Carlos pulled a small box from his sweatshirt pocket, and pulled two large, waterproof bandages from it. He opened one, and smoothed back Cecil’s hair as he very carefully placed it over the stitches over Cecil’s eyebrow, then again on his temple.

“Alright, you can lie back.” Carlos said as he started the water, setting it to warm, testing it with his fingers until it was at the desired temperature.

Cecil leaned his head back, resting the back of his neck on the folded hand towel. Carlos, with almost hesitant reverence, cupped his hands and dampened Cecil’s hair before he grabbed the lavender shampoo from his toiletries bag.

Cecil hummed in pleasure as Carlos’s fingers gently massaged the soapy suds of the shampoo into his scalp, tenderly coaxing the strands to cleanliness. Cecil relaxed into the soothing touch, the water pooling behind his ears on the dish towel his neck rested on as he leant his head over the edge of the kitchen sink, the back of the chair digging into his shoulders slightly as he did so.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Carlos said as he grabbed a cup from the drying rack and filled it with water, carefully pouring it over Cecil’s head, rinsing the pleasantly scented bubbles from the platinum locks. 

“It feels fantastic.” Cecil purred. He opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow, grinning crookedly. “Are you sure you’re a scientist and not a hair dresser?”

“Stop it, you.” Carlos said, smiling as he shook his head, winking. “Or I’ll dye your hair green.”

“It won’t work.” Cecil said as he closed his eyes again. “My hair doesn’t take to dye. It comes off like oil. Causes terrible stains in tile grout, though.”

Carlos paused for a moment, considering the statement, and shrugged.

He supposed, if his boyfriend could have sentient tattoo sleeves, he could have hair that refused to dye.

Because Night Vale.

Carlos squeezed a glob of the complimentary conditioner into his hand, and again went back to gently working the goop into his boyfriend’s hair. He had done this several times back at home, when he and Cecil had shared showers together (“The City Council has mandated that all couples who do not wish to be reported immediately for re-education must conserve the already limited supply of water by showering together. This is a desert, people! Save some for those non-existent fishies down at the waterfront and recreation area, alright?”), and he knew, all too well, how relaxing the action was; he quite enjoyed it himself. But now, he was struck by just how intimate the action was, of having his boyfriend trust him enough to wash his hair for him. It was simple, and almost menial, but just from the serenity on Cecil’s face as Carlos’s fingers probed at his itchy – and sore, he had no doubt – scalp, Carlos felt his heart swell with affection.

“Almost done.” He said as he grabbed the cup and filled it with water to rinse Cecil’s hair.

“Awww,” Cecil said, cracking open his eyes and pouting slightly. “Do we have to be? It’s relaxing!”

Carlos chuckled. “Sorry, _querido,_ but I think Mamá is almost done with her potatoes and will want the sink before too long.”

“You take as long as you need!” Maria said, waving her hand over her shoulder without turning around.

“Alright.” Cecil consented, sighing sadly. As soon as Carlos was done rinsing, and turned off the faucet, he sat up, slowly, and Carlos gently toweled off his hair.

“Better?” He asked as he removed the towel to reveal Cecil’s notoriously tufty hair. Cecil ran a hand through it, smoothing it at bit, and smiled as he nodded.

“The itchiness has ceased.” He affirmed. He pecked Carlos on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Carlos said. “Need help with the bandages?”

Cecil shook his head. “No, I can get those.” He said, and very gently began to peel them from his forehead and temple, wincing slightly when they pulled at the delicate skin.

Carlos took the bandages from him and deposited them into the trashcan in the corner. He turned back to face Cecil, only to find that his boyfriend had walked to stand beside Maria next to the stove, and had picked up a potato and knife, and had begun peeling.

“Cecil, you don’t have to do this!” Maria laughed. “Carmen will help me when I require it, as will Abuela when she wakes! You could hurt your fingers!”

“I’d feel useless sitting around while you did all the work.” Cecil insisted. “And my fingers restrict any dishwashing I might have been able to do otherwise, so it’s the least I can do.”

Carlos shook his head, and quietly slipped from the kitchen, silently wishing his mother all the luck in the world dissuading his boyfriend from helping.

In the meantime, well…a nap of his own was beginning to sound incredibly tempting.

 

...oOo...

 

Dinner that night was lively, with Abuela recounting her adventures in the community she lived at in Miami, including the tale of her neighbors, two best friends that had retired together, who regularly held wheelchair races down the sidewalk in order to determine who had to cook dinner that night.

Abuela had been extremely interested in hearing of Carlos’s experiences in Night Vale, especially in how he and Cecil had met.

“I fell in love with him instantly.” Cecil said, shrugging, as he took a bite of corn. “I admit, I probably should not have admitted to it as publically as I did through the radio, but…”

“It took me a year to come around.” Carlos continued. “At first I was convinced he was just joking, but after I got to know him a little better, it became clearer that he wasn’t joking.”

 After telling the family about their experiences in the little desert community they now both called home, everyone migrated into the living room to watch “A Christmas Story” on TBS on a continuous loop until it was time to get ready for midnight mass.

Carlos and Cecil had curled up on the couch together, next to Carmen and Ashley, and, just before Ralphie got a chance to talk to Santa at the mall the second run through, the two had both fallen asleep, with Carlos’s head on Cecil’s shoulder.

“Should we wake them up?” Donovan asked as he prodded his uncle’s leg with his foot lightly. “They’re gonna miss church if we don’t!”

Carmen ruffled her nephew’s hair as she walked past, now dressed in a modest, but flattering emerald green dress. “Let them sleep.” She said quietly. “Especially Cecil. With that concussion, he needs all the rest he can get.”

“God will forgive them for missing midnight mass.” Maria said as she straightened her husband’s tie. José hummed in agreement, but said nothing.

“Mommy, I want to stay home, then, too!” Gracie said as her mother finished tying the ribbon to her red velvet dress. “What if Santa comes while we’re at church and skips us because we weren’t asleep?!”

“Hey, yeah!” Cody agreed, turning to look at his father.

“Oh no you don’t.” Carmen said, shaking her head. “Santa knows all, remember? He’s never passed you up before when you’ve gone to church in the past, now has he?”

“Well…no.” Gracie said slowly.

“Exactly. And he won’t pass you up this time, either, I promise.” Carmen assured her daughter as she smoothed one of her curls down.

“But what if he does this year?!” Donovan said, tugging at his father’s sleeve. “I don’t wanna miss him! Can I stay home with Tío Carlos and Tío Cecil?”

Andre crouched down and picked up his son. “I don’t think so, kiddo.” He said. “Your Tía Carmen is right. Santa knows. He has to go to church, too, you know.”

“Besides,” Abuela said from the chair in the corner as Gracie bound over to her to sit in her lap. She pinched her great-granddaughter’s cheek lightly. “If you stay here, who will sit next to me and keep me entertained, hmm?”

Gracie giggled. “I will, Abuelita!” She said.

After a few more minutes of the tying of ties, the buttoning of buttons, and the diving for shoes in the pile that had accumulated in front of the door, the Ramirez family quietly made their exit out onto the snow dusted front porch, and into the cars in the driveway.

Just before he followed, José paused for a moment to glance at his sleeping son and Cecil, and he couldn’t help but smile softly as he gently draped a blanket over the two of them. He laid a hand atop his son’s curls, and let it linger there for a moment.

“ _Dormir bien, hijo mío.”_ He said quietly, before he turned and followed the rest of the Ramirezes out the door.

 

...oOo...

 

It was the chiming of the grandfather clock that brought Cecil tumbling back into consciousness from the branches of the lovely dream he had been having. He yawned, and rubbed at his eyes, noticing that his glasses had slid to the tip of his nose. He pushed them up and glanced around the room sleepily.

A fire was still going merrily in the fireplace, though it had died quite a bit since the last time it had been stoked, and Max had taken to his bed in the corner, where he was snoring loudly. The Christmas tree was still lit, glowing softly in the fire-lit room, as the TV had been turned off, as had the lamp next to the couch and in the kitchen.

The chiming of the clock finally died, and Cecil glanced at it. Midnight, exactly 12:00 AM.

He felt movement on his left side, and he turned his head to find Carlos snuggled close next to him, his head resting against Cecil’s shoulder. Drool had formed at the corner of his mouth, and he was snoring, every other breath, and his glasses had been pushed up to his forehead.

Cecil smiled, chuckling softly as he reached out and gently removed the glasses from his boyfriend’s soft hair. He placed them on the arm of the couch before he gently carded his fingers through Carlos’s curls, letting the locks fall through his fingers like water.

As he stroked through the gloriously perfect hair of the man he loved, Cecil’s mind snapped towards the silent stillness of the house, broken only by the popping of the waning fireplace, and the ticking of the grandfather clock.

Where was everyone?

 _Oh. They must all be at midnight mass._ He realized.

While he wondered, vaguely, why they didn’t wake the two of them up, but as Carlos shifted against him, burying his face in between Cecil’s shoulder and the back of the couch, scrunching his nose adorably, Cecil couldn’t bring himself to care. He ran his thumb down the line of stubble at Carlos’s jaw, relishing in the tickling sensation against his fingertips.

 _It’s past midnight._ He thought to himself. _Christmas Day. With my perfectly imperfect Carlos._

As he watched Carlos sleep, Cecil set himself to memorizing, for at least the millionth time, every tiny feature on Carlos’s face. The scar behind his left ear, where the hair curled, hiding it from view, where Carlos told him he had been hit by a plastic swing on the playground when he was seven. The very faint sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of his nose, from years of fieldwork, and forgetting sunscreen. The grey hair at his temples.

Everything about his was perfect, imperfectly so, and Cecil fell in love every time he looked at him. He felt his heart skip a beat and pound against his chest like a bee trapped in a drum, and he felt it burn with fondness for the scientist.

Cecil wanted very badly for this moment to last forever, for Carlos to be here, with him, forever.

He knew that a time would come, possibly very soon, when Carlos’s grant would be up, and there was a very good chance that it would not be renewed, and Cecil was not naïve to what this meant. There was a very, very real possibility that Carlos could leave Night Vale, and, in doing so, leave Cecil.

Cecil swallowed thickly. It was Christmas; he refused to think this way on Christmas.

He’d cross that bridge when he got there. For now, he was here, with his Carlos, and it was Christmas.

Cecil bent his head and pressed his lips to the shell of Carlos’s ear, nuzzling his nose into the grey hair.

“Carlos.” He whispered. “Wake up.”

Carlos grunted in reply, his eyebrows furrowing, which further wrinkled his already adorably scrunched nose, adding lines to his forehead. He buried his face further into Cecil’s shoulder.

“Come on, Carlos.” He urged. “It’s past midnight.”

“ _Cinco minutos mas, por favor.”_ Carlos muttered sleepily.

Cecil swept his hand through Carlos’s hair again. “Your family left us behind for midnight mass.” He said. “And I have a surprise for you.”

Carlos frowned, and opened one eye. “They left us?” He asked, his face still pressed against Cecil’s shoulder.

Cecil nodded. “It appears so.” He said.

Carlos closed his eye again, before he pushed himself up and away from Cecil, stretching.

“Guess they thought we needed the sleep.” He said as he let his arms fall with a plop on the blanket over them. He squinted, the world blurry without his glasses, which Cecil passed to him.

“What time is it?” He asked as he slipped the frames onto his nose.

“12:29.” Cecil confirmed, glancing at the grandfather clock. He very carefully extracted himself from underneath the covers. “Wait here! I’ll be right back!”

He retreated into the hallway, and Carlos watched him go, wondering how in the world the man had so much energy all of a sudden after having only just woken up, and, only a little over twenty four hours after a car accident.

After a few moments, Cecil all but skipped, albeit stiffly, back into the room, with a small package wrapped in pink and green paisley wrapping paper, and topped with a large red bow in his hand.

“Here!” He said, as he grinned, biting his lower lip. He held out the package to Carlos. “This is for you.”

Carlos blinked, and reached out and took the package.

“But, we don’t open presents until tomorrow morning?” He said.

Cecil shrugged. “The start of a new tradition?” He said. “For Christmases to come?”

Carlos smoothed a finger over the neatly folded edges of the package, no doubt Cecil’s handiwork, and smiled.

“Alright, but let me find one for you.” He said, setting the package down on the cushion next to him. He stood and walked over to the Christmas tree, where he knelt, and, after a few moments of searching, pulled a small, long package wrapped in silver wrapping paper with sparkly snowflakes. He handed it to Cecil.

“Here.”

Cecil reached out and took the present as Carlos seated himself back on the couch, taking the gift Cecil had given him back in his hands.

“Alright, you first!” Cecil said, practically bouncing in his seat as he turned to face his boyfriend. “I’ve been _dying_ for you to open it since I picked it up from the store before we left Night Vale!”

Carlos very carefully began to peel away at the meticulous folds of the paper, prying away at the tape slowly, before he finally gained enough leverage to tear the rest of the paper from the package. Beneath the wrapping paper was a plain, wooden box. He glanced over his glasses at Cecil, who was watching him with the eager anticipation of a child presenting a parent with a good report card, before he slowly opened the box, and set the lid aside.

Inside sat the most beautiful watch he had ever seen. Its face was about an inch in diameter, with a deep blue and indigo face, with flecks of white. At the center of the watch, where the hands would be, was a gold sphere, surrounded by seven smaller orbs of varying sizes and colors, as well as what appeared to be a shooting star at the outer edges of the inner face. Around the edges of the watch were the twelve months of the year, as well as a dial with numbers, from one to thirty one. Around the third orb, which was teal-green in color, was another, smaller dial, with the numbers of a clock, and the little green orb was currently sitting halfway between the twelve and the one. As he looked closer, he noticed that the smaller orbs were very, very slowly ticking around the golden orb at the center, and it was then that Carlos realized just what, exactly, he was looking at.

It was a planetarium. A watch planetarium.

“Well?” Cecil pressed, still vibrating with exuberance as he looked expectantly at Carlos. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Cecil,” he breathed. “It’s gorgeous! I love it!”

Cecil grinned that bright, effervescent grin that Carlos loved so much, the one that made his purple eyes light up and crinkle just a little at the edges, when he seemed to radiate sunlight itself.

“I had hoped you would.” He said. “It’s to replace the one you gave me for our anniversary.” He gently took the box from Carlos’s hands, and gingerly lifted the watch, which was attached black leather straps, and pointed to the face. “See? The little turquoise green one is the earth. It keeps perfect time, no matter where you are within the confines of this universe, even on cancelled Wednesdays!” He then pointed to the other tiny orbs. “These are all the planets that are visible to the naked eye within our solar system, and that,” he gestured to the shooting star on the edge. “Is Halley’s Comet.”

Carlos shook his head, completely at a loss for words as Cecil passed the delicate object into his hands.

“Cecil, it’s beautiful, but how in the world did you afford something like this?” He asked. “It must have cost you a fortune!”

Cecil grinned. “Actually, John Peters, you know, the farmer? His cousin Fredrick is the local watchmaker in town, and he owed me a favor after I helped him with a particularly pesky armadillo infestation he had going on in his garage a few years ago, so I called him up and asked him if he could make one for you. He said it was no problem. He even made sure that it’s completely waterproof, shatterproof, and he even performed a couple chants to make sure it’s time travel compatible, just in case you ever find yourself stuck in a time loop.”

Carlos laughed. “Handy.” He said, nodding. He very carefully looped the device around his wrist, and fastened the leather straps into place. He admired it on his wrist for a moment before he reached out and cupped Cecil’s chin gently in his hand, kissed him.

“Thank you.” He whispered against Cecil’s lips as they pulled away. “It’s perfect.”

Cecil grinned and pressed another kiss to Carlos’s jaw.

“I’m glad you like it.” He said.

Carlos smiled as he sat back away from his boyfriend. He picked up the package laying in Cecil’s lap and toyed with it for a second, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, a pensive look on his face before he finally held it out to him.

“Now you.” He said. “I’m afraid it’s nowhere near as…extravagant as what you got me, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“Dearest Carlos, anything you get me is absolutely perfect.” Cecil assured him. He looked down at the gift in his hands. “Did you wrap this yourself?”

Carlos laughed. “Er, no. Carmen did.” He admitted. “She wrapped most of yours, actually.”

Cecil smiled as he began to very carefully unwrap the package, slowly and methodically, as though it were a test of patience and perseverance. Carlos swallowed as he finally, finally pulled the last of the paper out to reveal a clear plastic box, about the size of a pencil case. Inside laid a sturdy black cord stretched out across the length of the box, with bright orange disc beads aligned asymmetrically along the middle. A small card was taped to the front of the box, and Cecil pulled it off and opened it.

“‘I love you, love Carlos’” he read the print inside the card aloud as he looked at the case in front of him.

“It’s a waveform bracelet.” Carlos explained. “Of me saying I love you.”

“Oh!” Cecil said as he finally saw how the disc beads aligned to form the wave. “Oh, Carlos, this is so _neat_!” He flushed with embarrassment at the use of the dreaded word, but he grinned anyway as he looked at his boyfriend. “Thank you!”

“Like I said, nowhere near as fancy as this,” Carlos gestured to the watch on his wrist. “But I thought you’d like it. So you always know.”

“I _love_ it!” Cecil said, leaning over, still rather stiffly, to rub his nose against Carlos’s affectionately. “It’s neat, and so scientific!”  His purple eyes gleamed mischievously as he added, “I’m _very_ into science these days.”

Carlos chuckled. “I’m aware.”

Cecil looked back at the clear case, and went to remove the lid. “Help me put it on? I don’t know if I can, with my fingers…”

“Oh, sure.” Carlos carefully extracted the two ends of the bracelet from the opposite ends of the case, and clasped the two ends of cord together around Cecil’s right wrist. “There.”

Cecil smiled as he flicked the bracelet around on his wrist for a moment, as though getting a feel for it, before he reached out and slotted his and Carlos’s fingers together.

“ _Feliz navidad, cariño.”_ Carlos whispered as he leant their foreheads together.

“Merry Christmas.” Cecil whispered back. He pulled away and yawned, widely.

“Come on, let’s get to bed.” Carlos said as he stood to his feet, and set about gathering up the discarded bits of paper and ribbon, and balled them into a heap before dropping them into the small wastebasket next to the couch end table. “I have no doubt the kids are going to be up at the crack of dawn to see what Santa brought them.”

Cecil nodded, and yawned again.

“That sounds wonderful.” He agreed.

Carlos helped his boyfriend to stand. He walked over to the fireplace, and poked at the logs so that the flames became smaller, before he closed the gridded gate around them. He then made sure the porch light was on, as well as the one above the sink in the kitchen, before he and Cecil made their way down the hall towards his bedroom, hand in hand, the planetarium watch and waveform bracelet lightly caressing the other as their fingers locked. They both shed their glasses and sweatshirts, Cecil changing into the pair of sweatpants he had been using as pajamas, and another one of Carlos’s flannels, before the two of them climbed into bed. Carlos very carefully removed the watch and placed it on the nightstand next to Cecil’s, before he switched off the lamp.

Cecil nestled himself as close to his scientist as he possibly could as Carlos’s arms snaked around his body, pressing the two of them as close together as physically possible.

“I love you, Carlos.” Cecil whispered as he kissed the column of Carlos’s throat before settling himself against the scientist’s chest.

“I love you, too, Cec.” Carlos said as he yawned.

They were asleep before another word could be uttered between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: While I was writing the scene where Carlos is washing Cecil's hair, I was actually at the hair salon getting my hair dyed, and just as I finished it, I had to get my own hair washed. Ha! Parallels. :) 
> 
> And I admit, I couldn't resist the Pokemon reference. And while yes, I have been made away (via my boyfriend) that Magikarp isn't that hard to evolve into Gyarados, c'mon, the boys are nine. 
> 
> Also! I apologize for the slew of Spanish/Spanglish in this chapter! To clarify within the story, when the children (i.e. Gracie, Donovan, and Cody) are talking about Maria, their grandmother, they call her abuela, while when talking about Abuela, their great-grandmother, they call her abuelita (which translates to "little grandmother," which I find fitting, considering Abuela is petite like Carmen). I apologize if this confuses anyone, because it did me as well, but I am not a native Spanish speaker, and when I did my research (including asking native speakers) how I could refer to Abuela, they agreed that 'abuelita' was appropriate.  
> ====
> 
> * Carlos's planetarium watch (with minor tweaks made within the story to make it more personalized): http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2548017/Forget-smartwatches-wear-150-000-PLANETARIUM-wrist.html 
> 
> *Cecil's waveform bracelet: http://www.geeksugar.com/Sound-Waveform-Bracelet-Lets-You-Record-Custom-Message-Waveform-Becomes-Design-2950556
> 
> \-----
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:  
> -hola: "hello"  
> -estoy en casa: "I'm home"  
> -mi hermano: "my brother" or "brother" (when referred to directly)  
> -tu novio es tan encantador: "your boyfriend is so charming!"  
> -No sé, pero lo amo: "I don't know, but I love him"  
> -Todos ustedes, fuera: "all of you, out!"  
> -Vamos, vamos. Dormir bien, Mamá: "We're going, we're going. Sleep well, Mama."  
> -Pobrecito: "you poor thing"  
> -Dormir bien, hijo mío: "Sleep well, my son."  
> -Cinco minutos mas, por favor: "five more minutes, please"  
> -Feliz navidad: "Merry Christmas"


	15. It Came Upon a Voidless Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Morning, and all is well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize so much for making this update two (TWO) months late! I am so so sorry! I finished up with school at the end of April (the entire month of which was filled with final projects and papers and *shudder* finals) and jumped headfirst into working full time at 40+ hours a week. All the time I've had to myself has honestly been spent sleeping. Or at least trying to sleep. Some nights are easier than others. 
> 
> So here's the second to last chapter! Christmas morning!!! Some of this chapter was incredibly difficult to write, for some reason, especially the gift opening scene. But! I drove through it! And here we are! I hope you like some of the gifts. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all soooooo much for your patience, and you lovely words of encouragement on writing this chapter the last two months! I appreciate it so much, and it helped me push through. Thank you thank you! I hope I didn't disappoint!! 
> 
> Enjoy! :D
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "Laura Palmer" by Bastille

 

Carlos awoke slowly the next morning, much to his surprise. He had, when he had fallen asleep, been expecting to be woken up at the crack of dawn by the shouts and cries of delight from the kids and, as always, dogpiled upon by said children until he complied to their demands and got himself out of bed.

But all was quiet as Carlos blinked awake in the bleary morning sunlight that filtered in through his window. A fuzzy glance at the clock on the bedside table proclaimed that it was approaching 8:15 AM.

8:15, and all was well this Christmas morning.

Carlos ran his hand through his hair and groaned as he let his face drop back into the pillow. He closed his eyes, and tried to will himself to go back to sleep, but it became quite clear that this would not be the case after only a few minutes, despite his best efforts. In all senses of the word, Carlos was awake.

It took him a few moments to realize that Cecil was still cuddled up next to him, with his right arm and leg slung over Carlos haphazardly, his face buried where his shoulder met the nape of his neck. He was snoring, quietly, and mumbling in his sleep (Carlos was fairly certain he heard the words “meat smell” and “envelope spiders” in there somewhere) and Carlos chuckled as he gently disentangled himself from his boyfriend’s loose hold, setting his feet on the floor, noting dryly that he was his right sock was missing. He liberated it from its hiding place underneath Cecil’s calf, and slipped it back onto his foot.  

He leaned over the bed to press a kiss to the middle of Cecil’s forehead.

“Love you.” He whispered softly, pulling himself away. He saw Cecil smile slightly in his sleep.

Carlos crossed the room and grabbed his bathroom toiletries bag from his dresser drawer, as well as a clean t-shirt and his spare pair of pajama pants – the ones with the grinning moose on them that Carmen bought him as a gag gift for his birthday the year before. He silently made his way to the door, and slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him gently, before he made his way towards the bathroom.

Just as he was turning on the light, he heard his name being called from inside the living room. He laid his clothes and toiletries down on the counter, and made his way into the living room to find Maria sitting in his father’s recliner in the corner. Brightly wrapped packages that had not been there the night before when Carlos and Cecil had gone to bed lined the front of the Christmas tree, indicating that Santa had, indeed, visited.

“ _Buenos diaz,_ Mamá.” He greeted her as he crossed the room, bending down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “ _Feliz navidad!”_

Maria smiled as she took her son’s face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“ _Feliz navidad, querido._ ” She said warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

Carlos nodded. “Like a rock.” He said as he rolled his shoulders, popping them. “Why didn’t you wake us up last night for midnight mass?”

Maria smiled. “You were both so peaceful,” she said. “And we knew that you both needed the sleep.”

“We were still planning on attending,” Carlos insisted. “Even with Cecil’s injuries.”

Maria shook her head. “You did not miss anything new, _hijo_.” She assured him. “There will be other midnight masses.”

Carlos sighed, and tugged at the hem of his shirt. There was no point in arguing with his mother; she always won in the end.

“So where is everyone else?” He asked, looking around. “I thought the kids would have been up by now, at least.”

Maria shrugged. “The children did not get into bed until nearly 2 AM, because they insisted they stay awake and wait for Santa to come, which meant that Andre and Carmen could not get the gifts from their hiding places until they were asleep.” She explained.

“Not that I’m complaining.” Carlos said, laughing lightly, raising his palms. “I’m all for sleeping in. I remember one year they woke us all up at six. I thought Dad was going to have an embolism.”

Maria chuckled. “I remember that.” She said. She eyed her son knowingly. “And I happen to remember quite a few Christmases when you, your brother, and sister did similar antics. You cannot blame them for being excited.”

Carlos grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said. He threw his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go grab a shower before Andre gets up and uses all the hot water. He never did like to save any for me.”

“For the best.” Maria agreed. “Perhaps the kids will be up when you’re done?”

Carlos made a face, and his mother giggled. “Here’s hoping I beat them.” He said, winking.

He made his way back into the bathroom, and started up the shower to allow the water to grow warm before he stripped down and stepped inside, relishing in the warm water as it pelted against his body.

As he was massaging the conditioner into his hair, he paused for a moment to just let the water run across his skin, and he raised a hand, pooling some of it in his hand, and he pondered at the fact that the water was clear, and not faintly colored and scented like the water that came out of his showerhead in Night Vale sometimes was.

With a start, Carlos felt a pang of homesickness, something he hadn’t experienced in quite a while; since he had first moved to Night Vale, in fact. He missed the slight adrenaline rush that came with waking up each morning in the little desert town, the anticipation of the unknown, the thrill of the discovery of the day’s bizarre phenomena. He missed the hot days spent in his air conditioned lab with his colleagues, with humming electrical equipment and bubbling beakers, and Jason roasting marshmallows over the Bunsen burner for s’mores, and Yvette’s constant rotation of printed off memes “to keep them all motivated.” He missed the cool mornings and evenings, huddled up under a throw in his apartment with a bowl of noodles and a documentary, or scientific journal, and in either his or Cecil’s bed, curled up together and sharing in a mutual zapping of warmth.

Thinking back on it now, Carlos was suddenly met with the realization that he did not know, exactly, when Night Vale had become _home_ , and this place, where he had spent more than half of his life, had become a place that was strange, and no longer _his._ But somewhere along the way, he had forfeited normality, and in doing so, he had lost something here, made him feel as though he were detached, and exposed, like a marble freshly fallen from a holey pocket.

All he knew was that Night Vale was home, now.

And he found that he could find not a single reason to complain about it.

Carlos was shocked out of his befuddlement as the water raining down from the showerhead turned ice cold, snapping him back to attention. He yelped as the freezing water fired his synapses back to life, and he very quickly washed the conditioner from his hair, fumbling for the knob of the shower. He hastily exited the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist as he did so. He stood there on the bathmat for a few minutes, shivering, letting the water drip from his body. If he hadn’t been entirely awake before, he sure as hell was now.

 _Well. So much for **Andre** using all the hot water there, Carlos! _He chastised himself as he began to dry himself off. He quickly pulled his pajamas back on, and brushed his teeth. He dropped the wet towel into the hamper by the door and hastily made his way back down the hall, quietly so as to not wake anyone, and slipped back into his bedroom, where Cecil still slept peacefully, curled into a ball with his chin tucked underneath a fold of the blanket.

Carlos tiptoed to the edge of the bed, and gingerly sat himself down at the edge. He smiled as he watched Cecil frown in his sleep, muttering the name “ _Steve Carlsberg_ ” as he twitched slightly.

Carlos chuckled, and shook his head as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. He found that he had a message from Yvette, wishing him a Merry Christmas, and he quickly texted one back in reply. He told Yvette to tell everyone else he said hello, and Merry Christmas, and that the lab had better be still standing when he got back, with as many science emojis as he could find before he hit _send_ and sat the phone back down.

He pulled back the covers and slowly slipped back under, stretching himself out beside his boyfriend before he pulled him close, nuzzling at the skin on the back of his boyfriend’s neck with the tip of his nose. Cecil stirred slightly, but did not awaken.

As he laid there, holding Cecil close, watching his boyfriend slumber, and feeling his deep intakes of breath against his chest, Carlos was once again overcome with the longing to return home, to Night Vale, where against all odds he had carved out a life for himself. A life he loved, with a man he loved, in a town he loved.

Home was where Cecil was. Where he could wake up every morning to Cecil’s mussed blond hair and shining purple eyes, where he could hear his voice whispering sweet nothings into his ear, where they shared an amassing of memories that made up the past, and the dreams and assumptions that made up their future.

He held Cecil closer, and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly.

Just as he was about to doze off again, the sound of a door opening and the pounding of several pairs of little feet, accompanied by shrieks of pleasure and excitement, reverberated through the hallway, and Carlos groaned.

_The kids are awake._

With a sigh, Carlos knew that any additional snoozing would not be on the list of things he would accomplish anytime soon now that the kids were awake (and, he was more than fairly certain, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting uncles that refused to rouse). He pushed himself up on one elbow and ran a hand through Cecil’s hair, leaning down to kiss his stitched temple lightly, the rough plastic edges of the stitches tickling his lips as he did so. He leant in close to Cecil’s ear.

“Cecil.” He whispered. “Hey, Cecil, wake up.”

He shook Cecil’s shoulder gently, and Cecil’s placid face scrunched in protest, his brow furrowing as he pulled the blanket tighter around his body, burying his face into the pillow.

“Cecil. It’s Christmas morning. The kids are awake, and if you don’t get up, they’re going to come in here, and believe me, it won’t be pretty.” Carlos insisted, shaking Cecil’s shoulder a bit harder.

Cecil let out a garbled grumble that closely resembled “ _hnnnnnnn”_ and curled himself further into a ball, pulling some of the covers off of Carlos as he did so. Carlos shook his head, smirking.

“Come on, _querido,_ or I’m going to be forced to leave you to the mercy of Gracie and the twins.” Carlos urged one last time, setting his forehead against the side of Cecil’s head. “I don’t want to, but I will, if I have to.”

After a few more moments of no movement from his boyfriend, Carlos sighed, and shook his head.

“You’ve dug your own grave.” He said softly. He swung his legs over the bed and walked to the door, poking his head into the hallway.

“Hey, kids! I think Uncle Cecil needs help getting out of bed this morning!” He called.

Carmen came stalking out of Abuela’s room, where she had spent the night on an airmattress on the floor, clad in fuzzy pink pajama bottoms and the blue, overly large Looney Tunes shirt she’d had since her early teens, her dark hair pulled back into a messy bun.

“You’d sell out your own boyfriend like that?” She teased as she stretched, yawning slightly. “That’s low, _hermano._ ”

Carlos grinned and shrugged. “Hey, it’s Christmas morning, and he won’t get up.”

“Still, ouch.” Carmen said. “Besides, I don’t think the kids heard you. Too busy fawning over what Santa brought them before they’re allowed to open them.”

Carlos chuckled. “Where’d you hide those this year, anyway?” He asked.

“The trunk of my car.” Carmen said brightly, clearly proud of herself. “Little heathens would never think to look there, now would they?”

He had to admit his sister was right, and he laughed.

“Think I should go in there and round them up?” He asked, looking over his sister’s shoulder towards the living room.

“Let me handle this.” Carmen said as she breezed past him into the bedroom. “Believe me, I am much less likely to do bodily harm to your still healing boyfriend. We want him intact today, don’t we?”

Carmen walked over to the bed, and the burrito of blankets that contained the defiant Cecil. She sat down at the foot of the bed and reached out towards the general direction of Cecil’s ankle, and she gently shook him.

“Cecil?” She asked, sweetly. “Cecil, honey, time to wake up.”

“ _Nnnnnnnhhhhggggg,_ ” Cecil replied.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” Carmen soothed. “It’s Christmas! There’s breakfast to be had, and presents to be opened, ice cubes to be put down older brothers’ shirts, and stories to be told!”

“ _Mmmmhhuuunnngg,_ ” Cecil mumbled.

“Well, hey, look at it this way!” Carmen said. “Your boyfriend was absolutely ready to hand you over into the merciless hands of nine and five year olds. So at least I’m trying to help you out here.” She stuck her tongue out at her brother, who rolled his eyes.

“ _Grrrraaaaahhhhhhfff,_ Cecil groaned.

“Yeah, I know, he’s a traitor.” Carmen agreed. She shook Cecil’s ankle again. “So c’mon, get up! Before he goes through with his nefarious plan!”

Cecil let out a huge sigh, and a low, long groan as he shifted and sat up in bed, glaring from beneath the locks of hair that fell in his eyes. Carmen grinned.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen when you’re ready.” She said as she stood to her feet. “I’ll make sure Dad doesn’t drink it all before you get a chance at a cup.”

She winked at Carlos as she walked past him. Carlos shook his head, grinning, and grabbed her by the arm.

“How did you do that?!” He demanded.

Carmen laughed. “You’re looking at the single mother of the most difficult five year old child to get up in the morning this side of the state of New York.” She said. “Trust me, you get some practice.”

“I may need you to write a book.” Carlos teased as he released his sister’s arm.

“You can’t learn everything from a book, Carlito.” Carmen grinned. “Tell you what, I’ll let you have Gracie for a week. After that, you’ll be a pro.” She winked, and walked off towards the living room, where the excited chatter of the kids could still be heard as they begged to be allowed to open one present from Santa before breakfast, despite the voice of José fervently telling them no.

Carlos walked back into the bedroom and smiled at Cecil, who had slipped on his glasses and was stretching.

“Morning, wonderful.” He whispered as he leant over the bed clothes to kiss Cecil’s wrinkled forehead. “Merry Christmas.”

Cecil smiled softly, humming in agreement.

“Merry Christmas.” He said back, his voice still thick with sleep. He itched carefully at the stitches at his temple, but stopped when he saw Carlos raise an eyebrow. “What time is it?”

“About nine,” Carlos answered. “The kids slept in, so we all got lucky today.”

“I’m sorry I’m so hard to rouse this morning,” Cecil apologized. “I was sleeping so well, and it was so warm…”

“It’s alright.” Carlos soothed. “Now come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

He stepped back and offered a hand to his boyfriend, who gratefully accepted the help from the tangle of blankets in his lap. Cecil ran a hand through his blond hair as he yawned again, and walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner, where he pulled a fresh, plain, green long sleeved shirt. Carlos watched as he gingerly peeled the flannel he had slept in from his body, followed by the t-shirt underneath, and Carlos swallowed, thickly, at the lump that formed at the back of his throat as he caught sight, for the first time, of the bruises that littered his boyfriend’s body.

Cecil’s chest was an map of deep indigo bruises, some of them as big as Carlos’s fist, others as small as quarters, that stretched across the skin like clouds over topography, starkly contrasting against his pale skin, and mingling with the purple ink of his tattoos, and Carlos thought wryly that they would probably move as far away as possible from the tender areas as soon as they were able to move again, when they returned to Night Vale. Carlos has known that it was bad, and that his boyfriend was sore from his ordeal, but until now, he had not gotten a chance to see the extent of the damage. It reminded Carlos just how close he had come to losing him, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold the radio host close, and never let him go again, to kiss at the wounds until the pain was gone.

Cecil winced as he brought the shirt over his shoulders, only to pause as he exerted himself too much, the shirt getting caught on his upper arms. He grunted quietly in pain, screwing his eyes closed tightly as he gritted his teeth.

“Here,” Carlos said softly as he walked over to help his boyfriend. He gently slid the sleeves down Cecil’s arms. “Let me help.”

“Thank you.” Cecil said quietly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, his purple eyes downcast. “I’m…I’m sorry that I can’t seem to do anything on my own for the time being.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Carlos assured him. “If there were some way I could take some of that pain and make it my own, I would. In a heartbeat.”

“You’re too sweet.” Cecil said, smiling, and leaning his forehead against Carlos’s, closing his eyes. “But I’m afraid that I would never allow it, even if the transference of pain between corporeal bodies were still legal.”

Carlos arched an eyebrow, but didn’t press the issue further. Instead, he tentatively reached out and grazed his fingertips across one of the bruises on Cecil’s left pectoral.

“A bath in Epsom salts might help.” He suggested. “With the pain, I mean.”

Cecil nodded, and smoothed a palm over his right arm. “Perhaps.” He agreed. “Can you, um…can you help me get this shirt on, please?” He asked, biting his lip, his ears tipping red in embarrassment once more.

Carlos took the shirt from him, and very gingerly eased Cecil into it. He then replaced the flannel he had been borrowing, button all but the top two buttons. Cecil smiled gratefully at him, the adoration hard to miss in his purple eyes.

“Ready?” Carlos asked as he swept a hand through Cecil’s hair, smoothing it down a bit. Cecil nodded, and took his hand in his good one, squeezing.

Together they walked into the hallway, making their way into the living room. José was sitting in his chair by the grandfather clock, and Ashley had seated herself down on the couch, rubbing her stomach lovingly as she watched Cody and Donovan wrestle on the carpet, and Gracie was sitting in Abuela’s lap in the rocking chair next to the fireplace. Her little face brightened as she caught sight of her uncles, and she bolted from Abuela’s arms and rushed at them, throwing her arms around their legs.

“ _Feliz navidad!_ ” She cried. She pulled back and grinned. “Tíos, tíos! Santa came to visit us!”

Carlos grinned as he bent down to pick up the little girl.

“I can see that.” He said as he slung the little girl over his shoulder, Gracie squealing delightedly. “Are you sure those are for you? Because I’m pretty sure I told Santa you’d been bad…” He winked at Carmen, who smiled and shook her head.

Gracie laughed. “You did not!” She protested, beating her small fists against Carlos’s shoulders. “That’s mean, Tío Carlos!”

“I agree, Carlos,” Cecil said. “It is rather cruel.”

Carlos put Gracie back on the floor. “Alright, fine.” He said, trying to look annoyed at having been caught in a white lie. “I didn’t tell him. But I still think some of those are meant for me.”

Gracie stuck her tongue out at her uncle, hands on hips. Carlos stuck his back out at her, and ruffled her curls.

Carlos chuckled as she turned on her heel and retreated back to the safety of Abuela’s lap. Carlos felt Cecil’s hand slip into his, and Carlos led him towards the kitchen, where a steaming pot of coffee awaited them both as Maria poured some of it into her little teacup and added a spoonful of sugar. She looked up as her son and Cecil entered the kitchen, and her face lit up.

“Oh, Cecil, you’re awake!” She said, setting the teacup down to encase Cecil in a hug. “Merry Christmas!”

Cecil smiled as he wrapped his arms around the tiny woman, and as they pulled back, he pecked her on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas!” He returned.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked as she stepped back. “You were sleeping so peacefully last night, we could not bear to wake you for mass.”

“We were rather comfortable, I admit.” Cecil agreed. Carlos saw him flick the wrist that still had the waveform bracelet on it. “Thank you, for letting us sleep.”

“Of course.” Maria patted his cheek. “Carmen said that you could use it, with your injuries. Are you feeling any better?”

“Still a bit stiff,” Cecil confessed. “And sore. But better, yes.”

“Good.” Maria nodded. She picked up her teacup, and walked over to the sink. “Would you like some coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot.”

“Please.” Cecil said, nodding enthusiastically. He looked at Carlos. “What about you?”

“I’m good.” Carlos said, shaking his head and holding up a hand. “You enjoy your coffee. I’m going to stake our claim in front of the fireplace for gift opening before Carmen gets to it.”

He kissed Cecil’s eyebrow before he turned and walked into the living room, leaving Cecil to his Sugar Rush, and quickly made his way into the living room, where he made a direct beeline for the rug in front of the fireplace. Just as he did so, he was caught off guard as something pounced on him, and he went to the ground, just narrowly avoiding the edge of the coffee table as he did so. He landed with a _thud,_ and all the air rushed from his lungs at once.

He blinked up at the ceiling in confusion, gasping for breath as he felt the weight lift from his chest, and he heard resounding laughter surround him. Carmen came into his line of vision, grinning down at him deviously.

“I don’t think so, big brother.” She chided. “You got the fireplace last year. My turn this year.”

“So you tackle me for it?!” Carlos demanded as he struggled to sit up, his head still spinning. “You could have just _asked_ me!”

Carmen grinned mischievously. “And where’s the fun in that?!”  

Carlos rolled his eyes and pushed at his sister’s shoulder.

“Get off.” He laughed. “You are a grown woman, Carmen Daniella Ramirez!”

Carmen stuck out her tongue.

 _Like mother, like daughter,_ Carlos mused affectionately as he glanced at his niece in the corner. She had effectively pinned Donovan underneath her as they grappled for one of the pillows from the couch to sit on.

“Hey, both of you cut it out before I intervene.” Andre joked as he sat his phone on the arm of the couch, climbing to his feet. He held out his hand to Carlos. “You’re both not too big for me to put you over my shoulders.”

“Andre, I’m as tall as you are!” Carlos protested as he took his brother’s outstretched hand. He grinned. “Besides, we both know that I’m the faster one.”

Carmen gave an exasperated _pfft_ from her place on the floor. “As if! I’ve always been the one that could leave the two of you in the dust! Smaller and faster. Not to mention I can duck between your legs and get to the door faster.”

Andre rolled his eyes. “Short people.” He grumbled.

Carmen glared. “You’ll regret that, big brother.” She vowed.

At that moment, Cecil came back into the room, looking much more awake and alert than he had five minutes before, and crossed over to stand next to Carlos.

“Sorry, Cec,” he said, eyeing Carmen. “But Carmen sort of tackled me for the spot in front of the fireplace. She won.”

Carmen smirked. “Fair and square.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it _fair,_ ” Carlos countered. “But you still won.”

Cecil laughed. “That’s alright, Carlos.” He said. “We can sit anywhere.”  

“But first, breakfast!” Cody said as he bounced past them, towards the kitchen. “Abuelita says she and Abuela are making pancakes!”

Abuela smiled as she slowly got to her feet. “Whole grain with raisins and bananas, just like I used to when you were kids.” She smiled at her grandchildren as she passed them. “Good for the colon!” She winked at Cecil, who grinned.

“Yummy!” Gracie cried as she clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “Pancakes!”

“Uh, without the sugar for this one!” Carmen called as she climbed to her feet to go into the kitchen to assist. “And if anyone put Pringles in her stocking again, I swear you’ll live to regret it!”

She stuck her head out the doorway, and eyed her brother.

“And don’t even _think_ about stealing my spot in front of the fireplace, Carlito! I’ll be watching.” She held two fingers to her eyes, and pointed them at her brother.

“No promises!” Carlos called after her.

 

...oOo...

 

After a delicious and disaster-free breakfast, Carlos, Cecil, and the rest of the Ramirez family all squeezed into their respective places around the living room. Carmen quickly reclaimed her spot in front of the fireplace, making sure to give Carlos a good natured stink-eye as she did so, while Carlos and Cecil settled themselves next to the grandfather clock.

After the kids had delightedly torn into their presents from Santa, and had opened theirs from the family, they eventually migrated to the serenity and linoleum floors of the kitchen (Donovan and Cody with their RC cars, Gracie with her robotic kitten), leaving the adults to their own gift giving. José and Maria dished out the presents one by one, assembly line style, until all had been distributed.

“Alright!” Carmen clapped her hands once. “Everybody pick a number between three and seventeen!” She pointed to Carlos.

“Six.” He said.

“Thirteen.” Cecil said.

José chose ten.

Maria chose fourteen.

Andre chose three.

Ashley chose sixteen.

Abuela chose seven.

“Alright, Carlos wins!” Carmen said. “It was five. He was closest. You go first, _hermano_!”

Carlos grinned and picked up the first package nearest to him, and read the tag attached to the green bow on top. “From Andre and Ashley.”

He gently peeled back the bright blue wrapping paper to reveal a box with four shot glasses printed on the side. They were in the shape of a beaker, Erlynmeyer flask, and a Florence flask. Carlos laughed delightedly as he shook his head.

“Thanks, guys!” He said.

“I saw those on ThinkGeek and you had to have them.” Andre explained. “Nothing screams _Carlos_ like chemistry shot glasses.”

“Don’t let him use them for any experiments, unless said experiments include alcohol mixed drinks, Cecil.” Carmen said, winking. “Knowing him, he might try!”

“Hey!” Carlos protested, picking up the next package next to his feet. He knew, without even having to look at the tag, that this one was from Cecil, because it was wrapped seamlessly in purple paper.

“That one’s from me.” Cecil said, blushing slightly. “I hope you like it.”

Carlos had a bit of trouble locating an edge at which he could pull away the paper, and he pulled it away to reveal a small, generic box. Opening it, he found a neatly folded lump. Unwinding it, he found that it was actually a knitted scarf, made from some of the softest yarn Carlos had ever felt. Diagonal stripes of blue and silver met an atomic symbol at the end.

“Did you make this?” He asked with a grin as he wrapped it around his neck. The softness tickled at the skin of his throat, but it was warm, and was a much needed replacement for the one that had been ruined the day of Cecil’s accident.

Cecil nodded.

“I had to hide it from you.” He said. “I worked on the majority of it in my studio during the weather, but there were a few times when I had to hide it between my couch cushions.”

Carlos quirked an eyebrow. “And it didn’t try to eat it?”

“Oh, no, it did.” Cecil said with the wave of his hand. “But it relinquished its grip after I bribed it with some fresh kale.”

Carlos saw his father raise an eyebrow, as did Maria, but Carmen just laughed.

“Alright, that’s it,” she said. “I have got to come to Night Vale and see this couch for myself. Does it consume human flesh, Cecil?”

“Not at all!” Cecil said brightly. “It’s a vegetarian.”

Carlos shook his head as he reached for the next package, which was from Abuela. Inside was a quilt, made from colorful patches of different patterns and swatches of cloth. In the corner, Carlos noticed that his initals – CER – had been embroidered in red thread.

“I knew that it was probably time you got a new one.” Abuela explained. “You did say that your old one that I made you for your high school graduation was beginning to wear thin, yes?”

Carlos nodded. “A bit.” He said. He smiled at his grandmother, and reached out a hand to squeeze hers in appreciation. “ _Gracias,_ Abuela. It’s wonderful.”

“Do you need a quilt in the desert?” José asked as Carlos carefully folded the quilt and placed it behind him.

“It gets rather cold at night.” Cecil explained. “Especially in the winter months. The days are blazing hot, but you do not want to be caught outside without a jacket at night.”

José pressed his lips together and nodded. “I see.”

“Plus,” Carlos said, poking Cecil playfully in the arm, gently so as to not hit any bruises. “ _This_ one has a habit of stealing the covers at night. So I like to keep an extra, just in case.”

Cecil blushed furiously, and poked Carlos back in retaliation.

Carlos quickly picked up the next package, which was from Carmen. He hesitated.

“Am I sure I want to open this?” He joked, looking pointedly at his sister. “Am I sure it’s not going to bite me or something?”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. When has anything I’ve ever given you and/or put in your hands bitten you?”

“Your hamster when we were kids.” Carlos reminded her. “And your child peed on me the first time I ever held her.”

“I did not!” Came Gracie’s voice from the kitchen.

“You did so, kiddo.” Carmen called over her shoulder. She turned back to her brother, stifling a giggle. “Besides that.”

Carlos laughed and unwrapped the present to reveal a messenger bag. It had more pockets than Carlos had ever seen on any other bag before, and it was made from sturdy black canvas with red stitching.

“Figured you could use that for fieldwork.” Carmen said. “And keep all your doo-hickies and calculators in the pockets. There’s a place for your laptop, too.”

“Thanks, Carmen!” Carlos nodded his approval as he unzipped the bag. “My old one is getting a little…holey recently.”

“Glad to know it’s useful!” Carmen grinned. “It also has gel pads in the thing on the strap to help alleviate the pressure on your shoulder.”

Carlos carefully sat the bag aside and opened the rest of the packages before him. These included, among other things, a few new dress shirts from his mother, a new camera from his father (similar to the one he bought Andre). The last three gifts were from Cecil, which included a sweater with dinosaurs on it, a coffee mug with the molecular structure for caffeine, and brightly colored socks with beakers on them.

After Carlos had successfully cleared the paper away from his immediate circle of personal space, Carmen turned her eyes on Cecil.

“You next!” She said.

“Are you sure?” Cecil asked. “I mean, I could go last. It’s not a big deal.”

“Cecil, you are a guest.” Abuela insisted, smiling gently from her rocking chair. “Go ahead.”

Carlos nudged Cecil with his elbow. “Go on!”

Cecil blushed as he reached for one of the packages on the floor. It was large and completely square, and it seemed heavy as Cecil sat it down in his lap, and wrapped in gold paper. He read the tag.

“To Cecil, love Maria and Carmen.”

Carefully he tore into the paper to reveal a purple argyle printed photo album. Cecil blinked, and curiously swept through the pages to find that while half of it was empty, the first half was filled with pages. Carlos realized with a start that they were of him, ranging from his childhood onwards through his college years.

“We wanted you to have some sort of visual proof that Carlos had a childhood.” Carmen winked. “We put it together while you were in the hospital. It was sort of a last minute thing. We also figured it could be something you and Carlos could work on together.”

Cecil grinned, widely, as he happened upon a picture of Carlos in a Power Rangers Halloween costume. (He noted amusedly that he was the green ranger.)

“Thank you!” He said.

He handed the album to Carlos, who looked pointedly at his sister when he caught a glimpse of a naked baby picture. He sat the album carefully beside his new shoulder bag.

Cecil picked up the next package in his pile, a small one wrapped in yellow tissue paper with an orange ribbon.

“From Ashley.”

He unwrapped it to reveal a pair of soft fuzzy socks, a deep fuchsia in color, with cat faces at the toes.

“They looked like you.” Ashley said from the couch. “I hoped you’d like them. I have a pair with bees on them.”

“They’re wonderful, Ashley.” Cecil said. “I love them.”

He pulled the plain white tennis socks from his feet and replaced them with the cats. Carlos had to admit he looked adorable.

“They’re perfect.” Cecil grinned. “Thank you, Ashley.”

The next one was from Carlos. It was an oblong box, longer than it was wide, and wrapped in purple paper. Inside were a pair of Chuck Taylor low tops with galaxy print on them. Cecil grinned as he held them up.

“I saw those in the window of Foot Locker at the mall,” Carlos explained. “They looked like you.”

“I love them!” Cecil said, running a finger along the side. They were made from satin, not the usual canvas. “You even got me purple laces!”

“Well, purple _is_ your favorite…” Carlos shrugged. “And I figured they matched well enough.”

“Thank you.” Cecil pecked him on the cheek, and Carlos felt his ears redden. The raised eyebrow Carmen gave him upon doing so only furthered his embarrassment. Cecil was the one person in this world that could make him as giddy as a schoolgirl, and blush like one too. It was completely unavoidable.

Cecil reached for the next package, which was a bit larger than the rest, and it rested in a gift bag, instead of being wrapped.

“From José?” He asked, blinking in surprise. Carlos looked at his father, also surprised; he hadn’t expected José to get Cecil nothing, per se, but he hadn’t necessarily expected him to get him something, either. A gift card, maybe.

From the bag Cecil pulled a sweater. It was oversized, and fluffy, and covered with overlapping pictures of penguins. The grin that graced Cecil’s face when he saw it was absolutely stunning.

“It looked like you.” José explained, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “After what Carlos had told me about you.”

“Thank you, José!” Cecil hugged the sweater to his chest. “You did wonderfully.”

José chuckled. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

Cecil very carefully folded the sweater and handed it to Carlos, who sat it down next to the rest of his and Cecil’s spoils. The fabric was so soft and fluffy that it caused static electricity to form, and the carpet shocked him as he dropped his hands. He wondered, vaguely, if this meant that the sweater was going to be out to get him from then on.

Cecil continued on with the rest of his gifts, which included a set of pajamas with octopi on them from Carmen and Gracie, a coffee mug with cats on it from Andre, and a warm throw blanket from Maria. He finally reached the last two packages, which were from Carlos.

He unwrapped the second one to reveal a purple 3DS, with two games attached, which were Nintendogs + Cats, and Pokémon Soul Silver.

“Ooooh, Carlos!” Cecil said excitedly. “Is this so we can play together?!”

Carlos grinned and nodded. “I know you expressed an interest a few months ago when you saw me playing in the lab,” he explained. “So I figured, why not?”

“You dork!” Carmen laughed. “We couldn’t drag you away from that old Gameboy to save your life when we were teenagers!”

“Do you still have your original Blue game?” Andre asked.

Carlos nodded. “Along with my Pikachu Yellow and Ruby Red. I play it on the odd day sometimes. For nostalgic purposes.”

Carmen rolled her eyes and nudged Cecil with her elbow. “Go on! One more to go!”

Cecil picked up the last package, and quickly unwrapped it, no longer caring about the condition of the wrapping paper. The box was heavy and large, and Carlos bit his lip to contain the smile he knew would certainly give away his excitement for his final gift to Cecil.

“Carlos!” Cecil said, turning to look at him, his eyes wide. “How did you know I’ve always wanted one of these?!”

Inside the box was a vintage typewriter, in near mint condition. It was a mint green in color, with pearly keys and a fresh ink ribbon Carlos had ordered online, with a few more tucked into the box for backup, along with a ream of paper. Wound into the platen was a piece of paper with the words:

Merry Christmas, Cecil!

I love you!

Love, Carlos

 

“You said something about it back in November, when Yvette was working on her NaNoWriMo novel.” He said. “And you said you’d always wanted to write a novel on a typewriter. So I went online and found this one, and a website that sells new ribbons. It wasn’t all that hard considering typewriters are coming back into popularity.”

“It’s perfect!” Cecil vaulted himself at Carlos, completely forgetting about his injuries, throwing his arms around his neck. “Thank you so much!”

Carlos laughed as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, hugging him back. “I’m glad you like it!” He said. “We’ll have to ship it home, since it’s too heavy to pack in our luggage, but I didn’t want to wait until we got home for you to open it.”

Cecil pulled away from him and kissed him. “It’s one of the most thoughtful and wonderful gifts anyone has ever given me.” He said. “I promise I’ll take care of it.”

“Alright, love birds,” Carmen said, rolling her eyes good naturedly. “Getting kinda antsy here!”

“Oh stop it, Carmen.” Abuela scolded her granddaughter. “I find it adorable.”

Carlos felt his face go red, and Cecil’s did as well. They grinned nervously at each other before disentangling, and Cecil sat back down next to Carlos, but he threaded his fingers with those of his boyfriend almost immediately, refusing to let go. Carlos wasn’t about to complain.

The rest of the gift opening went by almost in a blur. Carlos knew that Cecil was pleased with the family’s reactions to the gifts he had chosen for them, especially Abuela, as he had presented her with a new tea kettle (robin’s egg blue in color; Carmen had helped him pick it out at the mall) and mug to match.

“I do not know how you knew, Cecil, but this is just what I needed!” She laughed. “My old one just stopped working recently. I have missed my tea! _Muchas gracias!_ ”

Cecil’s grin was intoxicating. “ _De nada._ ” He said back, flawlessly. He squeezed Carlos’s hand proudly.

As they were finishing up, and José, who had gone last reached for the last gift in his pile, Cecil laid his head on Carlos’s shoulder. Carlos rubbed his thumb over Cecil’s knuckles lovingly, gazing out the corner of his eye at his boyfriend’s white blond hair, and he kissed the strands gently.

“What is this?!” José suddenly bellowed, and Carlos jumped in surprise. He hadn’t quite expected his father to raise his voice.

Cecil jumped, too, and they looked back towards José, who held up a grey t-shirt. On the t-shirt was a very angry looking cat, and Carlos recognized it as the Grumpy Cat meme from some of Yvette’s collection. Beside the cat were the words, “annoyed kitty, touchy kitty, grouchy ball of fur, moody kitty, grumpy kitty, grr, grr, grr.” Carlos immediately recognized it as a parody of “Soft Kitty” from _The Big Bang Theory_ , and he saw Cecil turn a brilliant shade of scarlet.

“That one’s from me.” He said, almost timidly. “I-It reminded me of you…before?”

José glared at the shirt for a few seconds, and Carlos’s heart clenched in his chest, and he squeezed Cecil’s hand tightly, half expecting everything he and his boyfriend had worked so hard for the past few days to crumble around them, over a t-shirt given in good humor.

Then José threw back his head, a smile so big it nearly split his face in two, and laughed, heartily. He smiled warmly at Cecil as he looked back at him.

“I suppose it _does_ resemble me, does it not?” He chuckled.

Carlos, his heart light once more, laughed, as did the rest of the family around them. Carmen gave Cecil a thumbs up, and Carlos felt his boyfriend physically relax, and let out a sigh of breath.

He kissed his stitched temple. “Told you he’d come around.” He whispered.

“Alright, everyone!” Ashley stood, albeit slowly and off balanced from the comfort of the couch and clapped her hands together. “Kids, come back in here! It’s time for the family photo!”

Gracie, Donovan, and Cody came clamoring, giggling, back into the living room as Andre crossed the room to the corner where a tripod and camera had been set up. Carlos helped Cecil to stand, then his sister, and joined the rest of his family in front of the Christmas tree as they all pressed together. Once Andre had set up the camera and located the remote control, he, too, joined the rest of the Ramirezes.

Cecil hung back, smiling almost sadly as he watched them congregate together. A pang hit his heart, fierce and strong, and he thought once more back to his mother and his brother, and the lost memories he had of them both. He wondered if there were any pictures of the three of them anywhere in his reality, and even if there were, if he’d even believe it was him and his family. He saw Carmen make bunny ears behind Carlos’s head, and he batted her hand away with a grin, and a shake of his head.

“Cecil?” He was snapped out of his reverie by Carlos calling his name. “Aren’t you going to come over here?”

Cecil blinked. “Oh.” He said, almost unsure of what to say. “I-I…I didn’t think I should?”

“You’re a member of the family now.” Andre said.

“So you have exactly four seconds to get your butt over here!” Carmen added.

Cecil felt his heart somersault in his chest, the edges burning with affection as he walked over to sit next to Carlos on the floor. Carlos slipped his arm around his waist, pulling him close.

“Say _queso!_ ” Carmen commanded.

“ _Queso!_ ” The kids chorused together.

Cecil smiled for the camera, and Carlos’s arm pulled him a little closer as the picture was snapped. And in that moment, Cecil knew he couldn’t ask for a more perfect day, for a more perfect anything.

Perhaps one day he would remember his own family, and the Christmases they had spent together. Perhaps one day his memories would not be filled with holes, and unanswered and unanswerable questions. Perhaps one day he would be able to look back on those memories fondly. But for right now, all that mattered, as Carlos turned his head and kissed his cheek as the next picture snapped, was right then, with the Ramirez family, and his perfectly imperfect Carlos.

He couldn’t ask for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I had to google the anatomy of a typewriter. By far one of the most interesting things I've googled in a while!
> 
> The next chapter is the last one!!! I promise it will come soon. :) I'm currently writing a fic for Mixxy featuring smutty Cecearlos, so...yeah. (Oh yeah, I forgot. In the last two months, another reason I haven't updated? I sort of learned the art of writing smut. So. Yeah. You'll be seeing some of that from me. Maybe soon. Yeah.) 
> 
> \----
> 
> Cecil's Converse: http://www.journeys.com/product.aspx?id=285197  
> ***(I own a pair! I wore them with my Cecil cosplay when I saw Night Vale live back in March! And yes, my laces are purple. They are by far my favorite pair of Cons in my collection!)***
> 
> José's t-shirt: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/167759154842921707/
> 
> Carlos's shotglasses: http://www.thinkgeek.com/product/f2cc/?itm=adwords_labelsHome_%26_Office_and_adwords_labelsGlassware_%26_Drinkware_and_adwords_labelsRegular_Pri&rkgid=1143961455&cpg=ogplaho1&source=google_home_office&device=c&network=g&matchtype=&gclid=CO7H0aaV574CFZSMMgod4GIAEA
> 
> \----
> 
> Translations:  
> -Feliz navidad: "Merry Christmas"  
> -muchas gracias: "thank you very much"  
> -queso: "cheese"


	16. I'll Be Home in Night Vale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos and Cecil bid adieu to the Ramirez family, and head home to Night Vale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS IT. THE LAST CHAPTER. 
> 
> I apologize, once again, for the long wait; to be honest, I completely forgot about this chapter until I recently received a few new comments on it, asking when I would be updating! I got so caught up in writing Cecearlos for Mixxy and writing the Royals AU, it completely slipped my mind, and I am sooooooo sorry I kept anyone waiting! 
> 
> This chapter is a bit choppy, in that I didn't want to drag out the story for very much longer than I had to, because I wanted to wrap this up nice and clean in one chapter. It's more of an epilogue than anything, and it's fluffier than a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on a rainbow. :) 
> 
> Also, THOSE EPISODES, NOOOOOOOOO. I nearly cried during the last one. Cecil's just so sad, and it, in turn, just makes me want to hug him and tell him it will all be okay. And dammit, Carlos, learn to multitask! Your boyfriend misses your heroic, clueless ass! (On a sidenote, hearing Dylan speaking as Carlos again really helped me pin down how I hear his dialogue in my head, which was awesome. And it's Dylan. It's impossible to dislike that man.) 
> 
> Chapter Song: "It Was Always You" by Maroon 5.

The next few days went by in a whirlwind, flying by so quickly that in some ways, Carlos found that he could easily equate it to an existential crisis in that he wondered if it had actually happened at all; before he knew it, it was the day before he and Cecil were set to return home.

Cecil was sitting on the floor in a circle with Cody and Donovan, all three of them clicking away at the controls of their DSes frantically, as though their very lives depended on the pressing of the A-button in rapid recession, their faces the very picture of concentration. Cecil had his tongue poked out between his lips, and Carlos couldn’t help but note that it was actually kind of adorable when he did that as he glanced over the pages of the book he was reading about mathematical matrices.

“Yes, I caught it!” Cody cried triumphantly, pumping a fist in the air. “Do you know how hard it is to catch a Snorlax?!”

“Try catching a Dratini.” Carlos interjected. “It took me exactly seventy eight tries to catch my Dratini in Pokémon Blue when I was a kid.”

Donovan rolled his eyes. “Big deal, you caught a Snorlax.” He said to his twin, who stuck out his tongue in retaliation. “Tío Carlos is right, Dratini is really hard to catch with just a regular Pokéball.”

Carlos chuckled as his nephews went on arguing over which Pokémon the hardest to catch was, and bookmarked the page he was on and set his book aside. He walked over and sat down next to Cecil, who hadn’t looked up from what it was he was doing, and peered over his shoulder.

“Look, Carlos!” Cecil said excitedly, holding up his DS so his boyfriend could see. “I caught another Zubat!”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “How many of those have you caught so far?”

Cecil shrugged. “I don’t know. Let me check…”

After a few more clicks, he pulled up the folders that filed all of his Pokémon. Carlos took the DS from him and looked at the folder titled “Sacrifical,” noticing that the entire contents consisted of nothing but Zubats, all of which were named Steve.

Carlos laughed. “Cecil, why are these Zubats named Steve?”

“They’re sacrificial Zubats, dearest Carlos.” Cecil said flippantly, taking his DS back. “And you know very well why they are named Steve.”

Carlos shook his head, still grinning as he pressed a kiss to Cecil’s forehead.

“Don’t forget we have to pack.” He reminded his boyfriend. “Dad’s running me up to the post office here in about an hour to ship what we can’t pack.”

Cecil nodded. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” He assured him, pressing another kiss to Carlos’s scruff. “Who is taking us to the airport tomorrow?”

“Andre and Carmen.” Carlos answered. “Andre has to stop by the city to get something for work, and Carmen isn’t going to pass up an opportunity to go into the city if she can absolutely help it.”

“I wish that you could stay longer, Carlito.” Abuela lamented from her rocking chair in the corner, where she was knitting. “You both must come and visit again in the summer sometime.”

“I’d like that.” Cecil said. “The snow is lovely, but I would enjoy seeing all the greenery.”

Carlos chuckled. “I’ll look into it.” He promised.

He got to his feet and dusted the lint from the carpet from his jeans and the elbows of his flannel shirt. Cecil clicked a few more buttons on his DS, and tapped the stylus against the screen three times, before he turned off the game and closed it. Carlos held out a hand, helping him to his feet.

“Awww, Tío Cecil, do you have to stop playing?” Donovan pouted. “We were about to team up and battle together!”

Cecil shrugged. “Sorry, guys, but Carlos is right.” He said. “I do still have packing to do.”

“Okay.” The boys chorused together dejectedly. Carlos reached out and ruffled Cody’s hair.

“Hey, don’t sound so disappointed. You _did_ just catch a Snorlax. That’s something to be proud of.”

Cody visibly brightened, and he grinned before he looked back at Cecil.

“Will you come back out and play when you’re done?” He asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Cecil consented. “But it might be a little while, okay?”

“Okay!” Donovan said excitedly. He looked back at his twin. “Ready to battle?”

Carlos slipped his hand into Cecil’s, and tugged gently on his arm. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Before they get distracted.”

The two walked down the hall into Carlos’s room, where Carlos had put their suitcases on the bed. He released Cecil’s hand and walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner, and opened the top drawer. He pulled his neatly folded shirts from the drawer and crossed the room to deposit them in his suitcase, flipping the lip of it open with his toe.

“Nine days flew by entirely too quickly.” Cecil lamented as he pulled his own shirts from the top drawer.

“Mmm,” Carlos hummed in agreement. He laid his shirts in the corner of the suitcase and crossed the room once more to wrap his arms around Cecil from behind, pressing a kiss to his white blond hair lovingly. “But it will be nice to be home.”

Cecil turned around in his arms, and buried his face in Carlos’s shoulder happily. Not a word was said as they stood there for several minutes, simply reveling in each other’s company and warmth.

“I love you.” Cecil murmured finally, sighing contentedly.

“I love you, too.” Carlos kissed him, gently, and ran a thumb over the stitches on Cecil’s eyebrow. “Bet you’re ready to get these out.”

Cecil nodded, and brought his own hand up to them. “They itch.”

Carlos smiled. “That means they’re healing.” He said. “Dr. Garland said that she talked to Teddy Williams, and you can get them out after the New Year.”

“I know that.” Cecil quirked an eyebrow.

“Didn’t say you didn’t.” Carlos stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend, who chuckled. He kissed him again, and released his hold around him. He grabbed another few shirts still in the drawer, and put them in his suitcase, while Cecil followed suit.

As they packed in companionable silence, Carlos couldn’t help but sneak glances at his boyfriend out the corner of his eye, and he thought about how much he didn’t want to consider a life without him. He and his team had another year before their grant was up for renewal, and while he didn’t doubt that the grant would indeed be renewed for another three years, Carlos found himself contemplating the alternatives should it fall through. If this trip had taught him one thing, just one thing, besides the fact that he was absolutely and scientifically in love with Cecil Palmer, it was that he never wanted to be without him, even for a little while.

Impulsively, Carlos reached out and grabbed Cecil’s wrist as he turned to walk back to the chest of drawers for another set of clothes. Cecil blinked at him, those brilliant, impossibly wonderful purple eyes wide with surprise.

“Carlos?” He asked. “Is everything alright?”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just…” He gently pulled Cecil closer, pressing the other man as close to him as he could. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cecil still sounded mildly confused as he brought his arms around Carlos to hug him back, but Carlos couldn’t seem to articulate with any cell in his brain how else to communicate just what it was he was feeling in that moment.

“Carlos?” Cecil said after a moment. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Carlos said. “I just had to tell you is all. I feel like I don’t say it enough.”

“You do.” Cecil assured him, nuzzling his nose against Carlos’s. “And even when you don’t, I know.”

Carlos smiled and closed his eyes, his forehead pressed against Cecil’s, and the two stood there for several more minutes, Cecil’s arms around Carlos’s neck, and Carlos’s hands on Cecil’s hips. Nothing more was said as they pulled apart and went back to their packing.

But as their hands brushed against one another as they leant over each other to pick up clothing and other items to place them in suitcases and pockets, the small looks and faint blushes filled Carlos’s heart with butterflies and a radiating warmth that he knew spoke so much louder than any of words, even when coming from Cecil’s spectacular voice, ever could.

 

...oOo...

 

Early the next morning, after showers and one last shared breakfast with the rest of the family and making sure every last little thing had been collected and tucked into carry-ons and suitcases, Cecil followed Carlos out the front door and onto the porch of the Ramirez home, where Andre took their suitcases and loaded them into the back of his minivan as the family piled out onto the porch to say their goodbyes.

“You’ll come visit, right?!” Gracie whimpered as she threw herself at Cecil’s legs, hugging him tightly. “I’m gonna miss you!”

Cecil smiled and crouched down to give the child a hug. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his coat.

“Of course!” He promised her. “Or, perhaps, you could come visit us in Night Vale. Either way, I promise, you’ll see me again soon.”

“Plus, I have your Tío Carlos on Skype.” Carmen reminded her daughter. “We can always call them if you start to miss them.”

“I miss them now!” Gracie wailed, pulling back, her lip trembling, her big brown eyes wide with unshed tears. “I don’t want them to go!”

“Hey, we’ll see you again soon, kiddo.” Carlos said as he, too, crouched down to the little girl’s level. She released Cecil and hugged her uncle, who picked her up. He ruffled her curls lovingly. “ _Prometo._ ”

Gracie sniffed and nodded, and Carlos sat her back on the porch.

“Love you, Tío Carlos.” She said as she released her uncle.

Carlos smiled. “Love you, too, Gracie Girl.”

Gracie turned to Cecil, and launched herself at his legs again. “Love you, too, Tío Ceesaw.”

Cecil chuckled, and patted her head. “Love you too, Gracie.”

Gracie released him and stepped back, and her mother smoothed down her daughter’s hair as she hugged her.

Maria stepped forward and cupped her son’s face in her small hands, and Carlos leaned down to accommodate the height difference. She tenderly pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“ _Te quiero mucho, mi hijo._ ” She said, smiling lovingly. “You take care of yourself, Carlito.”

“I will, Mamá.” Carlos promised, and he hugged his mother, lifting her off her feet. “ _Te quiero, también.”_

He sat her back down gently, and she patted his cheek one last time before she stepped back, and turned to Cecil. She raised her hand to his cheek as well, and Cecil felt the warmth of her palm travel from his cheek to the corners of his body. She smiled at him.

“Christmas has always been my favorite time of year,” she said. “Because of the blessings that it brings. But this year I never could have imagined that the blessing I would receive would be a new son to love.”

Cecil blinked, his eyes flooding quite unapologetically with tears. He bent down and enveloped Maria in a tight hug, and he felt his heart swell in his chest as she brought a hand up to stroke his hair, just as he remembered his own mother doing when he was a child. After a few more moments, they pulled apart, and Maria kissed his forehead.

“You are my son now, too, Cecil.” She said sternly.  “And I love you. No more car accidents, do you hear me?”

Cecil nodded, the smile on his face so big he could hardly contain it.

“Definitely not.” He said, his voice slightly choked. He wiped away a few stray tears as they fell.  “Thank you so much, Maria. For everything.”

Maria smiled at him one more time before she released him, withdrawing her hand from his face, and stepped back. José stepped forward and held out his hand to Cecil, his face neutral as usual, but his blue eyes were much warmer than they had been when they had first arrived, and Cecil knew he could consider that a step in the right direction, at the very least. He took José’s proffered hand and shook it, grasping it tightly in his own.

“You take care of yourself.” José said. “And of Carlos.”

“I will. Always.” Cecil promised.

José gave him a curt nod, and a small smile, and he turned to his son.

“Words cannot describe how proud I am of you, _hijo_.” He said, smiling he slipped an arm around Carlos.

“ _Gracias, papá.”_ Carlos nodded at his father, smiling so brightly, Cecil was almost certain it could light an entire room. “For everything.”

José said nothing more as he nodded once more, releasing Carlos. He helped Abuela to her feet from where she sat in the swing on the porch, and she smiled at her son appreciatively as she walked up to Carlos, who encircled her in a hug.

“You come and visit me sometime, you hear?” She said firmly. “And you take care of that boy! I want him in one piece the next time I see him.”

Carlos laughed. “Yes, Abuela.” He kissed her cheek. “ _Te quiero._ ”

She turned her gaze to Cecil. “You are good for our Carlito.” She reminded him. “And see to it that he stays out of trouble. Lord only knows he could use it.”

Cecil laughed when Carlos looked mock-offended, and bent to peck Abuela on the cheek, just as Carlos had done. “Yes, Abuela.”

Abuela beamed and squeezed Cecil’s good hand lovingly. “Next time you see me, you bring your knitting needles, and we will knit together, yes?”

Cecil nodded, still grinning. “I would like that. Perhaps you could show me how to make a pair of socks like the ones you’re knitting for the baby? I never was able to make the socks look right. They always ended up without a heel and with what appeared to be an extra pocket for a stray toe.”

Abuela laughed, her wrinkled face nearly splitting in two as she threw her head back. “Yes.” She said, nodding. “We will knit socks.”

Abuela stepped away after patting his cheek one last time, and José helped her sit back into the swing.

Cody and Donovan detached themselves from their mother and launched themselves at Carlos, very nearly sending him tumbling backwards from the porch into the snow of the yard, had he not caught himself at the last minute.

“We’ll miss you!” They said in perfect unison.

“Come back and visit us soon!” Cody piped.

Carlos laughed and ruffled their dark red hair. “I promise, you’ll see me again soon.” He said. “In the meantime, you take care of your mom and dad when your new siblings gets here, okay? They’re gonna need all the help they can get.”

“We promise!” Donovan said, nodding. “And don’t worry; if it’s a boy, we won’t let them name it after you.”

Carlos laughed heartily again. “Hey, there is nothing wrong with the name Carlos! It’s an awesome name.”

“No, we meant your middle name.” Cody said, shaking his head. “Emilio just sounds weird.”

Ashley bit her lip, obviously trying not to laugh, as she made eye contact with Cecil, who chuckled. Carlos gave an exasperated look, and ruffled the twins’ hair again.

“Stay out of trouble, you two.” He said.

Ashley was next, stepping forward to peck her brother-in-law on the cheek before she hugged him warmly.

“Next time you see me, it’ll be easier to hug me, I promise.” She said lightly, and Carlos grinned as he placed his hand on Ashley’s stomach.

“Can’t wait to meet the little enigma.” He said, addressing Ashley’s stomach, grinning widely as the baby inside kicked. “You be nice to your mom. She’s the only person I know that can keep your dad in line.”

“Hey!” Andre protested, and Ashley grinned.

“Oh, don’t even try to deny it.” Carmen put in. “Other than me, you know it’s true.”

Andre grumbled something under his breath as he stuffed his hands in his pockets sullenly.

Ashley turned to Cecil, and enveloped him in a soft, tender hug.

“Thank you so much for coming out here this year.” She said, pulling away. “It was wonderful to meet you! You’re so good with the kids.”

“Thank you for having me.” Cecil replied as they stepped apart. “It was so wonderful to meet you all.”

Ashley reached out and pressed Cecil’s hand to her belly.

“Next time you’ll have a new member of the family to win over.” She said. “Say goodbye to your Tío Cecil, little one.”

The baby inside of Ashley kicked Cecil’s palm in response, and he felt a flare of affection wash over him for the unborn child he would one day hope to call his niece or nephew. Ashley released Cecil’s hand and stepped back, patting her belly. The twins attached themselves to Cecil as soon as their pregnant mother was clear.

“Bye, Tío Cecil!” Cody said. “We’ll miss you!”

“Bring your DS next time so we can trade Pokémon!” Donovan added. “We’ll build a team that will leave Tío Carlos’s team in the dust!”

“In your dreams, kiddos!” Carlos chimed.

Donovan stuck his tongue out at his uncle, and Cecil laughed.

“Promise.” He said.

“Alright, nerds, we’d better get on the road if we want to make it before midday traffic!” Carmen piped from the yard. “Chop chop! Time’s a wastin’!”

Carlos rolled his eyes, and pecked his mother, grandmother, and sister-in-law on the cheek one last time and nodded to his father before he took Cecil's hand in his own, and Cecil felt butterflies dance in his stomach at the contact, and he saw José smile slightly as he glanced at their joined hands.

“Well, this is us.” Carlos said.

José gave a nod. “Safe travels to you both.”

“Call us as soon as you get home to let us know you arrived safely!” Maria said sternly. “I will be waiting! Don’t let your mamá worry!”

Carlos chuckled. “ _Sí, Mamá, yo prometo_.” He assured her.

“ _Tu cuida a ese niño!_ ” Abuela added, wagging her finger at her grandson.

Cecil didn’t know what she had said, but by the way Carlos pulled him closer, and the warmth of his smile as he turned to look at him, he knew it had something to do with him, and he blushed.

“ _Lo haré._ ” Carlos said, nodding.

“Tick tock!” Carmen chided again, this time from her place by the passenger side door of Andre’s car.

“We’re coming, Carmen, hold your horses!” Carlos called over to his sister as he and Cecil turned and walked down the steps of the porch into the snow laden yard.

“You know very well I have no horses to hold, dear _hermano_.” Carmen said as she slid into the front seat and fastened her seatbelt, Carlos and Cecil doing the same. “They were left behind the day you lost me at the mall.”

Carlos groaned, running a hand over his face, and Cecil chuckled, making a mental reminder to have Carmen explain the story to him later; he doubted Carlos’s rendition of the tale would be as humorous.

As Andre executed a near perfect three-point turn and began the slow decent down the driveway, Cecil turned around in his seat to look back at the family waving from the porch of the Ramirez home. Gracie, Donovan, and Cody had clamored down the steps, and were running after the car as it drove away, grinning and waving frantically. Cody cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled something in Spanish, and his twin and cousin chorused him before they continued waving.

Cecil watched as his newfound family shrank further and further into the distance until the minivan crested the hill, and they disappeared from sight. He turned back around in his seat and nestled close to Carlos, who put his arm around his shoulders.

“See?” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to Cecil’s stitched temple. “You’re a member of the family now. They love you, just like I do.”

Cecil said nothing as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Carlos’s lips. His boyfriend smiled at him and nuzzled his nose against his.

“Alright, lovebirds, story time!” Carmen interrupted from the front seat, beaming as she looked into the rearview mirror at them. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. “Story time?”

“Well, seeing as we’ve got a two hour drive ahead of us, I figured I would fill Cecil in on some of the embarrassing stories from your childhood.” Carmen said giddily. “You know, like the time we went camping with Dad and the two of you ran out of our campgrounds with nothing but towels around your waists because you thought there was a bear outside your tent?”

Andre’s eyes widened, and he made eye contact with his brother in the rearview mirror. Carlos looked equally as horrified as Carmen laughed. Cecil bit his lip, trying to contain the giggles as Carmen began to tell the story despite both of her brothers begging her to stop.

It was good to have a family again, he decided. And it was even better to have siblings again.

 

...oOo...

 

The flight back to Arizona had been much easier than the first, as Carlos had made sure to pick up some Dramamine from the corner drugstore on the way to their terminal, and he had called and changed his and Cecil’s return flight home to one that included a three hour layover in Denver, both of which helped tremendously in fighting Cecil’s airsickness.

After having arrived back in Night Vale, the two had come straight back to Cecil’s apartment, where they shared a slice of Big Rico’s and watched a documentary together, finally alone for the first time in over a week, snuggled up under the quilt Abuela had made for Carlos on Cecil’s plush couch. In the end, they had abandoned the documentary in favor of kissing, which had eventually led to the two of them stumbling into Cecil’s bedroom, where they currently resided, curled together under the soft sheets of Cecil’s bed, Cecil snoring softly as Carlos watched him sleep, smiling fondly.

Carlos hummed softly as he carded his fingers through Cecil's soft, disheveled white-blond hair, watching as his tattoos curled lazily around his elbows and along his back. Despite how wonderful it had been to see his family again, and to spend Christmas with them, it felt good to be home in Night Vale again, with the most wonderful man cuddled against him, his handsome face serene and unblemished with stress or anxiety, his tattoos once again swimming beneath his epidermis, just as they were supposed to, shuddering slightly as they continued to shake off nine days' worth of stasis from their forms. 

 He bent his head and pressed a kiss to a passing tentacle on Cecil's bare shoulder before he slowly lowered himself back onto the bed, putting his arm around his slumbering boyfriend and pressing him against his bare chest.

" _Te amo, mi querido.”_ He whispered.

He closed his eyes and nuzzled his nose into the hair at the nape of Cecil's neck, breathing in his familiar scent, still slightly musky and mingled with sweat, and let out a sigh of content.

 _Yes,_ he thought. _This is where I'm meant to be._

He pressed his lips close to Cecil's ear, and whispered, "Marry me? Someday?"

In his sleep, Cecil smiled.

He drifted off to sleep then, his and Cecil's naked bodies tangled together, and dreamt of his life. He dreamt of love, of the ocean, of science and faith, and of Cecil, who somehow managed to combine both into one solid, tangible object. Cecil, who he'd lay down his life in a second for, who loved him for his imperfections and perfections alike, who he was certain, now and forever, he simply could not do without.

As the two of them slept peacefully together, side by side, the cool desert air gently wafted through the town, in between the slumbering buildings and across the sand wastes, and over the ominous dog park, brushing the leaves of the Whispering Forest and gently tousling the curtains of Cecil’s open window, wishing them, and all of Night Vale, a goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh c'mon, we all know Cecil would keep a file of sacrificial Zubats handy in the event that he needed to conserve his other Pokemon. And they would all be named Steve, with the occasional Telly thrown in. ;) 
> 
> Oh! And before I forget, yes, I plan to write a few more stories featuring the Ramirez family! They received a warm welcome, and I've had several people messaging me on tumblr about writing more of them (especially Carmen, haha!), so I plan on doing a couple oneshots here and there featuring them. One in the works at the moment recounts Carlos's loosing Carmen at the mall, so watch out for that one. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all _so much _for your amazing support, your wonderful, lovely, kind reviews, and your awesome kudos on this story. It was an absolute blast to write this, and experience it with you all. Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3__
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _\-----__  
>   
> 
> __  
> _Translations:_  
>  -Te quiero mucho, mi hijo: "I love you very much, my son."  
> -Te quiero, también: "I love you, too"  
> -Gracias, papá: "Thank you, father/dad."  
> -Te quiero: "I love you" (non romantic)  
> -Sí, Mamá, yo prometo: "Yes, Mama, I promise."  
> -Tu cuida a ese niño: "You take care of that boy!"  
> -Lo haré: "I will"  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr! You can find me at my main blog, or at my writing blog!!!


End file.
